


A Lion in Winter

by deagh



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deagh/pseuds/deagh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ser Cullen Rutherford has survived the Blight and the beginning of the Mage/Templar war.  He has seen things and done things that have left scars, both physical and psychological.  He has been recruited by Seeker Pentaghast to help fix the broken Chantry.  Perhaps he can fix himself along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kirkwall

_From the personal journal of Cullen Rutherford_

_9:30 - 6 Justinian - Redcliffe Chantry:_

_Mother Hannah says I need to write down my feelings...as if that will help anything. Maker, I should have let Commander Greagoir have a mage heal me instead of coming here to recover. They just patch you up and send you back to what you were doing...no...not again. I will not let magic touch me again._

_Redcliffe is a mess. Apparently there was an undead attack, which seems to not be related to the Blight at all. It was caused by Arl Eamon's son Connor, because he's a mage and made a deal with a demon. Of course he did. That is what mages do.. But at least cleaning up gives me something to do other than sit and think about...what happened. I just need to keep busy._

* * *

Kirkwall: 9:41 - 18 Cloudreach

Cullen pondered the pile of reports in front of him and rubbed his temples. Another headache. It seemed he ended each day with them, these days...started most days with a headache, for that matter. There were not enough hours in the day to do everything he needed to do. At least his efforts were bearing visible fruit. Kirkwall was in a little better shape than it was right after the Chantry exploded. The rubble had been cleared away, although the Chantry had not been rebuilt. Cullen doubted that it would be rebuilt on that site, in any case. Order had been restored in the city, due in no small part to the efforts of Guard Captain Aveline - he liked the woman, and not just because she was a fellow Fereldan. She got the job done, and she took care of her people. He considered both her and her husband Donnic to be friends...at least, as much as he considered anyone a friend, anymore. He had little time for socializing. The occasional dinner with Aveline, Donnic and their children or, when he was looking for socialization of a different sort, a visit to the Rose once a month or so was about as much as he allowed himself.

"It is no wonder I have a headache, if I let my mind wander so," he muttered, and tried once again to concentrate on reports. Crime was apparently up a bit - he'd have Aveline's people look into that, as that was more her jurisdiction than his. Trade was up a bit, too...hmmm...perhaps those were related. He made a note to ask Aveline about that. He had learned a lot about how the city worked since the Chantry explosion, but he felt like he did not know nearly enough.

He was just considering going to one of the Tranquil for a headache draught when Elsa appeared at his door, as if summoned. Was he that predictable?

"Knight-Captain, there is a Seeker here," she said.

She was here? He'd known Seeker Pentaghast was in the city, but she hadn't been to see him as yet. He supposed it was his turn to be taken to task for the events three years ago. Well, nothing she said could be any worse than the things he said to himself about what had happened.

"Send her in, and would you please bring me a headache draught when you have a moment?"

Elsa gave him what was, for her, an arch look and placed a phial on his desk before leaving to fetch the Seeker.  _"Apparently I am that predictable,"_  he thought to himself as he tossed back the draught and grimaced. He could swear they tasted worse every time he had one.

He was glad he'd had the draught once Seeker Pentaghast told him what she wanted. On the one hand, he was glad that he and his fellow templars would not be taken to task for the events of the past several years. In fact, she commended him for doing as well as he had.

"If that dwarf is to be believed, you are much of the reason the city functions as well as it does," she said.

"Seeker Pentaghast.."

"Please, call me Cassandra. It's a bit less of a mouthful, and I do not wish to call more attention to my family connections than necessary," she said.

"Fine, Cassandra, then, why me? If I had put a stop to Meredith before it came to this…"

"Bah. She was your commander. Besides, she was very good at telling people what they wanted to hear, according to the Lord Seeker. I am sure she did the same with you. I am more concerned that you did the right thing and defended the city, and you have spent all of your waking hours since helping to restore order. Kirkwall is reasonably functional, which is more than even Val Royeaux can say at the moment. You are driven and organized, from everything I have heard about you. The Inquisition needs those qualities in a commander."

On the other hand...she was asking him to leave the Templar Order.  "I just cannot believe it has come to this...a second Inquisition," Cullen said. He actually did believe it, he just didn't want to. The Nevarran Accord had been anulled. The towers had fallen. There was no going back. But it was hard to admit, all the same.

"Not...necessarily. There is one last chance. Justinia has called a Conclave so that all parties can talk and perhaps come to a peaceful solution. It is to be held at the Temple of Sacred Ashes in Ferelden. One hopes that people will behave at Andraste's resting place," Cassandra said.

Her dry tone made Cullen smile, in spite of himself. He liked this woman. He thought he could work with her.

"If the Conclave succeeds the Inquisition will not happen, then?" he asked.

"Perhaps. I am not so optimistic that the templars and mages will come to an agreement so quickly. Even if they do, the Chantry will still need to change...and the Templars do not currently have a Knight Vigilant. Believe me, Knight Captain Cullen, you have impressed the Divine. You will play an important role in what is to come, regardless," Cassandra said.

"Seeker, I need to consider this," Cullen finally answered. "I can give you an answer tomorrow."

"Of course. This is not a decision to be made in a moment," Cassandra answered. "I will come back tomorrow at this time," she said. They both stood and shook hands, then she turned on her heel and left.

Cullen didn't even bother trying to go back to his paperwork after Cassandra left. He knew there would be no point. He recited the Chant in an effort to calm his thoughts, but he couldn't have told you which of the canticles he'd chosen.

Even though he was ashamed that he had not seen what was happening to Knight-Commander Meredith in time to stop her, he was proud of what he'd managed to salvage from Kirkwall's ashes. Even though Kirkwall had been the beginning of the mage/templar war, it was faring better than some other cities in Thedas. Of course, it was a bit of a shithole to begin with, but that was neither here nor there. But..he had to see this as a sign from the Maker that his time here was done.

But to become the Commander of the Inquisition, he'd have to leave the Templar Order. Was he ready to do that? He thought perhaps he was, but he'd been a templar for half his life - more if you counted the training. It was...a big change. He supposed he was not committing to leaving the templars just yet. The Conclave could still go well, although he wondered if he was fooling himself for thinking so. Still, the Seeker was the Divine's Right Hand. If she said that the Divine wanted him to have an important place in whatever the Chantry must change itself into, then she did, and he would. Regardless of the outcome of the Conclave, it was a chance to help fix not just Kirkwall...but all of Thedas. He would be a fool to let this pass him by. He would sleep on it, or whatever passed for sleep with him tonight, but he knew that when the Seeker returned, he'd accept her offer to join the Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hello! I was once an avid fanfic writer for DA:O and the Sims series, but life got in my way a few years ago. Inquisition in general and Commander Cullen in particular have captured my interest, bigtime. I've always had a soft spot for the man, but what they've done with him in Inquisition has just really made me want to figure out what makes him tick. Title is from the 1968 movie about King Henry II, but it's really a play on words nodding at Cullen's rather leonine appearance in Inquisition + the perpetual winter of Haven/Skyhold. Thank you to JayRain, Winterborne, and MsBarrows for their help and encouragement as I have been writing this piece.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the views and the kudos! It's great to be writing again, and I'm glad you're enjoying!

_From the personal journal of Cullen Rutherford_

_9:30 - 20 Justinian - Redcliffe Chantry_

_Mother Hannah lectured me again. I have too much to do to spend time writing down what I am thinking, and besides, it's only been two weeks since I last updated this. Refugees from all over Ferelden are coming here and most of the mages are dead or gone anyway, so Greagoir has said I stay here for now. Just as well. I am not sure I want to go back to Kinloch Hold ever again. At least I cannot see it from here. My wounds have healed and my strength is nearly returned, so I have begun helping the refugees. It is...good...to feel useful again._

* * *

Kirkwall: 9:41 - 19 Cloudreach

Cullen was surprised and dismayed to learn that the Left Hand of the Divine, Sister Nightingale, was someone he knew from the Blight. Sister Leliana had been with Solona Amell when they'd found him at Kinloch Hold, which meant that she knew of his shame - the things that he hadn't told anyone, not even Knight Commander Greagoir or the sisters who'd help care for him at Redcliffe. He eyed her with mounting dread as Cassandra discussed their plans to leave for Haven as soon as possible. What had she told them?

Thankfully he did not remain in suspense for long. She remained behind when Cassandra took her leave of them after promising to send word as soon as she had passage arranged across the Waking Sea.

"It has been a long time, Knight Captain. You are looking well," Sister Leliana said, her voice as melodious as ever.

"I'm glad it's under better circumstances than our last meeting, Sister," he said.

"Possibly. You are not currently being attacked by demons, but one could argue that Thedas is in as much peril now as it was then, and this time we cannot even blame an Archdemon," she said. Cullen had to concede that she had a point.

"Sister, I must ask...how much do the Seeker and the Divine know about...when you found me at Kinloch Hold?" he asked.

"Only that you had been captured and tortured by Uldred and his demons, and that you had held out for weeks," she said.

Cullen swallowed. He did not talk about this. Not ever….but he had to know what the rest of them knew. He wasn't telling Leliana anything she didn't already know, so he forced himself to ask. "Not...not what I told you when I thought you were demons?"

Leliana looked at him with some sympathy and then shook her head. "It wasn't relevant," she said.

"She was a  _mage_ , in my  _care_ ," he hissed. "The things I thought, the things they made me think..." Cullen said, then broke off. He did not like to talk about this.

Leliana raised an auburn eyebrow. "You had lustful thoughts about a mage in the Circle. You and every other Templar, ever. Did you act on them?" she asked.

"Maker, no!" he said. "Not with one of my charges...I would never…"

"Then it is  _not relevant_ ," Leliana insisted. "You cannot control who you find attractive. You can control what you do about it. Your thoughts are your concern and no one else's. Not even mine," she said.

"But…"

"Not. Relevant. Do you think about her still?" Leliana asked.

Cullen shook his head. "No, not like that," he finally said. "It was but a crush, over long ago. Can we talk about something else, please?" he asked. He did still have nightmares about the torture, but he hadn't thought about Solona Amell in a long time, other than as 'The Hero of Ferelden'. He'd heard she was married now, and he wished her happy.

"I will say only one thing more. I considered you delirious when we found you, and treated anything I heard you say accordingly," Leliana said.

"Thank you," Cullen said. He was grateful that she could keep a confidence, although he knew that she wouldn't hesitate to use the information she had if she felt she needed to. For now, though, it seemed his secrets were safe.

* * *

It ended up taking several days to prepare to leave Kirkwall. There were ships leaving every day, but not all had room for what was becoming an entourage. Cullen had recruited more than half a score of potential soldiers - mostly green kids from Lowtown and Darktown, but there were a few templars who said they would follow him wherever he went, and there was also one aging city guardsman that Cullen, with some help of Guard-Captain Aveline, had convinced to join them. The man's bones would not be up to patrolling for much longer, but Aveline had said he was very good with new recruits, so Cullen had offered him a position as a sergeant. He hoped it meant that he wouldn't have to spend all of his time drilling troops. Leliana had also been recruiting spies in the underbelly of the city, so their group quickly swelled to over a score.

The delay did have one benefit. It gave Cullen time to take his leave of his friends in Kirkwall. He promised to keep in touch with Aveline and Donnic, although he did admit he was an indifferent correspondent. That promise did remind him to pen a letter to his sister in Ferelden, though, to let her and, by extension, the rest of his family know he was leaving Kirkwall. She had only just forgiven him for the last time he'd relocated without telling her.

Saying goodbye to May at the Blooming Rose was harder. He'd been visiting her off and on for several years, after all, and he was comfortable with her. He liked to think she considered him as much friend as paying customer. She seemed to like the parting gift he'd given her well enough.

"Andraste's Flame? For a whore?" she'd asked, looking at the simple silver pendant.

"For a friend," he'd answered, which had made her smile.

"Then, as a friend, I thank you," she said. Her thanks took the rest of the evening, as it turned out. He'd miss her. Hopefully he would be so busy he would not have time to miss the lack of female companionship.

* * *

It wasn't until they were boarding ship that Cullen learned of the final addition to their party. He was standing at the railing when he saw Cassandra shove the burly dwarf up the gangplank. Varric Tethras had a distinctly put upon look on his face as he stepped on board ship. Apparently Cassandra still wasn't convinced that the dwarf had told her all he knew.

"Andraste's Ass, people were not meant to travel on the water. I will get you for this, Seeker," he muttered.

"Yes, yes, so you keep saying," Cassandra shot back. Varric looked around and smiled as his eyes lit on Cullen.

"Curly! What are you doing here? I thought the templars left the Chantry."

"The Divine wants to talk to me," Cullen answered. Cassandra, who looked like she'd been about to tell Varric to mind his own business, gave Cullen a look of approval.

"You and me both, Curly, you and me both. My sympathies," Varric said. Cullen supposed the dwarf would find out the full truth soon enough, but he knew from long experience to say as little as possible when Varric was around. It would wind up in a book...or worse.

 


	3. Ex-Templar

_From the personal journal of Cullen Rutherford_

_9:30 - 24 August_

_I am to be transferred to the Greenfell Chantry. Knight Commander Greagoir tells me they are having problems with bandits there, and need a small Templar garrison, at least for the time being. What he is not saying is that he does not want me near mages for the moment because he feels I am This is a mistake. He is refusing to see what mages are capable of. But he is my commander, and I have vowed to serve the Order. I will obey._

* * *

Between Kirkwall and Jader - 9:41 24 Cloudreach

Cassandra grumbled either at or about Varric during the entire voyage from Kirkwall to Jader. Clearly the dwarf knew how to get a rise out of her. But then, he was a past master at getting a rise out of people, not to mention the fact that Cassandra was a bit on edge already. She was not happy that she had been unable to find the Champion of Kirkwall, much less convince her to lead the Inquisition. Cullen didn't think they'd ask him, but he'd say no if they did. He was comfortable with the notion of commanding the military arm. He did not think he had the skills to command any more than that.

The Inquisition...it was definite now. Cassandra and Leliana had received a message from the Divine shortly before they'd set sail from Kirkwall. Preliminary talks among the mages, the templars, and the chantry were not going well, and so Divine Justinia had authorized that the Inquisition be created. Preliminary plans had already been put in place, but now preparation began in earnest. There was still a small chance that the Conclave would eliminate the need for a second Inquisition, but everyone in their group was expecting to happen. Leliana and Cassandra were looking at fabric swatches for uniforms. Well, Leliana was looking. Cassandra was telling her that she didn't care and Leliana could wait until the Inquisition's ambassador, Josephine Montilyet, met them in Jader, and then the two of them could "dress up the Inquisition's soldiers like dolls" to their heart's content. Cullen had tried to voice his opinion - he rather thought that the commander of the army should have a say in what his troops looked like - but he had been laughed out of the cabin. He did manage to get Leliana to agree that pink was not an appropriate color for uniforms before he fled the room, though.

All these plans did make one thing crystal clear. He was leaving the Templar Order, and so were the six templars who had come with him...if they stayed. He had spoken with all of them and told them that they could go to the Order's garrison once they reached Jader, if they decided to stay with the Templars. He'd written a letter telling Lord Seeker Lucius that they had left Kirkwall under his orders, and so they should not be considered deserters. All six insisted they would stay, but he had the letter ready, just in case. He would not think less of any of them for going back to the Templars.

As for him...he would not. His path was set. He would command the Inquisition's army, so when they got to Jader he would hand in his resignation from the Order. It would mean quitting lyrium, but he thought he could get through that. He had been going longer and longer between lyrium doses for a while now - as the acting Knight Commander in Kirkwall he rarely left his office, so he had not actually had to use his talents in a long time. He now only took enough to stave off the withdrawal and the very worst of the nightmares. He was not looking forward to the increased nightmares. But he had endured through the worst Uldred and his demons had seen fit to throw at him, and he'd endured through the insanity that was Meredith Stannard, along with the Chantry explosion and that crazed battle that had ended with Meredith becoming a red lyrium statue, so he supposed he could continue to endure.

The Jader garrison's Knight Commander, Jean-Paul, was saddened to hear that Cullen was leaving. "You have done good things in Kirkwall, Knight Captain. I think they should have made you Knight Commander a long time ago," he said.

"Oh, I think anything would be an improvement over what Meredith became, but I did have some successes," Cullen replied.

"That you did. Of course, it's still a bit of a shithole, but it  _is_  the Marches. Meredith...that was a bad business. I suppose now that the Nevarran Accord is broken the Divine has to do something, and she has done well to pick you to assist her. Don't know whether to congratulate you or commiserate with you, though. I wouldn't want that job. But if the Divine calls, you must answer, eh? Good luck at the Conclave, Knight-Captain. That many mages in one place, bound to be trouble."

"No doubt. Hopefully it will accomplish something," Cullen answered. Personally he thought the Chantry and the Templars were as much to blame as the mages, especially after all that he'd discovered about what Meredith had done during her reign in Kirkwall, but there was no point in saying anything to that effect. "In any case, if you would forward my letter to the Lord Seeker, I would be most appreciative. I would take it myself, but if I wish to be at the Conclave I cannot detour to Val Royeaux," Cullen said.

"Of course. Thank you for your years of service, Knight Captain. I'll call one of my lieutenants to show you to the Armoury. I'll make sure your armour gets back to Kirkwall."

Cullen blinked at that. He hadn't even thought about the fact that he had to turn in his platemail. Well, good thing he was wearing a decent shirt and trousers under his armour.

He felt almost naked without the heavy plate. He hadn't gone out without armour for so long he'd forgotten the feeling of freedom and lightness. And cold. He hurried back to the warmth of the inn where they were awaiting the arrival of Lady Montilyet. Varric was in the common room with Leliana when he arrived, and both greeted him when he stepped in to the welcoming warmth.

"Curly! Where's your armour? Were you mugged?" Varric asked.

"I resigned from the Order today. Had to turn it in," he said.

"Shit...they made you give up your armour? Man, I've never even seen you without it. You look...actually, you don't really look any smaller," Varric said.

"No, he doesn't. Those are some broad shoulders, Commander Cullen," Leliana said.

"Er, yes, thank you. Well, I will have to get some armour. As the Commander of the Inquisition I will need it. Have you finalized a design yet?" he asked.

"No, I want Josie's opinion before we commit to anything. But that doesn't matter. You're the commander, you need something different...something regal. Hm, let me think on this. I will get my sketchpad," Leliana said as she got up from the table.

"You're up shit creek, Curly," Varric said.

"She promised no pink, I made sure of that," Cullen said.

"You're still up shit creek. I've got a gold that says whatever she designs is going to have feathers. Or fur," Varric said.

"Or both. I'm not taking that bet," Cullen responded. He supposed he could just refuse to wear whatever she came up with. Varric was right, though. He was definitely up shit creek. Hopefully Lady Montilyet had less...colorful...ideas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Let's see if anyone notices the tiny little trope I dropped in there. I know *I* can't help but think it every time I think about the Inquisition. Also, you may have noticed that the Knight Commander is still using Cullen's title, even though he's just resigned. The Knight Commander is using the title out of habit as Cullen is still wearing his Knight Captain's plate, and Cullen has been called Knight Captain for so long that he doesn't really notice. It takes a while for a change that major to sink in.
> 
> Thank you so much for the views and kudos! I grin like a loon whenever I see them.


	4. Sharp Dressed Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen discusses leaving the Templar Order with Cassandra, and gets new threads

_From the personal journal of Cullen Rutherford_

_9:31 Dragon - 20 August_

_I have returned to Kinloch Hold. All I can see when I look at the mages are the abominations...the demons...the screams. Even the mages that did not seem to support Uldred - how can I know that they were not invaded? I...I am not sure I can perform my duty here at Kinloch Hold. This place, it holds too many memories. I must speak with Commander Greagoir._

_Commander Greagoir has offered me a transfer to Kirkwall. I know he thinks that I am too biased against the mages here to remain. Of course I am biased against the mages here - look what they did! But...leaving here will be welcome, so I will not protest. I hope I am wrong, as Greagoir is a good man and I do not want to see him destroyed by these mages._

* * *

Jader - 9:41 - 25 Cloudreach

Cullen found Cassandra in the inn's common room early the next morning. He was returning Varric's account of the events that led up to the fiasco with Meredith. Cassandra had asked for his opinion on it, and he'd finally finished it. Many of the parts were...unbelievable...but the most unbelievable bits were things he knew to be true, so he thought that perhaps all of it was - at least at its heart. There were some obvious embellishments. He happened to know that there weren't more than 40 or so bandits in Kirkwall at any given time. There was no way that Hawke and her friends killed 10-20 a night for weeks. They'd have to be falling from the sky.

"So, Cullen, how much of it is lies?" Cassandra asked.

"I can't comment on all of it, but the parts I know of are surprisingly accurate," Cullen said. Cassandra scoffed.

"No, truly. If you pull away some of the writer's embellishments - I've sparred with Guard Captain Aveline, so I know good and well that while she is certainly strong enough to stagger even me, she can't knock a foe back ten feet with her shield bash - it's fundamentally what happened."

"Maker's Breath, what a mess, then."

"Indeed. Not the finest hour for the Templar Order."

"Or the Seekers," Cassandra said with a sigh.

"Speaking of...I must talk to you about some consequences of my leaving the Order," Cullen said.

"Oh?"

"I have enough lyrium to get to the Conclave, and a bit beyond. Perhaps a month, if I stretch it out," he said.

"Seekers do not use lyrium, but there will be Templars at the Conclave and who will join the Inquisition, and there is the Chantry. I'm sure we can secure a source for you before you run out," Cassandra said.

"I'm sure, but that's not what I'm asking you. I have decided to stop taking it. I will not spend my life a slave to lyrium, if I no longer need the abilities it grants. If I am leaving the Templars then I am leaving all of it. The initial withdrawal symptoms are….unpleasant...so I'll not stop the doses until after the Conclave. I know I cannot slow down the journey. As it is we will not be able to afford many delays. Once the Conclave is over and we organize the Inquisition in earnest, then I may need your help." It killed Cullen to ask, but he had to. He'd seen the symptoms. There was no way he'd be able to hide them anyway. Not from a Seeker of Truth. And if sacrificing his dignity meant he could continue to perform his duties, well, his dignity could go right to the pyre.

"Of course. Ask, and it is yours."

"I'll need a healer who is discreet. There are some anti-nausea draughts that help during the first few days. Mainly, though, I need you to assess my performance. If you feel that the withdrawal is interfering with my duty, then you must replace me," Cullen said.

"I do not think it will come to that, Commander. I have read reports from all of your Knight Commanders. I do not question your dedication or your will. But, if it will reassure you, I will promise. If your performance is inadequate for whatever reason, I will tell you so," Cassandra said.

"Thank you, that eases my mind," Cullen said.

"There are also some Seeker techniques that you might find helpful. Meditation and the like. I can teach you," Cassandra said.

For a moment, Cullen didn't know what to say. He had not expected the Seeker to offer such open handed assistance. "Thank you, that would be most helpful."

"Good, that is settled, then. On to other matters. Have you met Lady Montilyet?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes, briefly, shortly after she arrived last night. She seems...capable," Cullen said, which made Cassandra laugh.

"Do not let her clothing and manners fool you. She is as much a warrior as you and I, Cullen. She simply fights on a different field. Not everything can be solved with a sword, much as we might like it to be so to."

"I know, but we have little in common. She is noble, I am a fisherman's son. She is a diplomat, I am warrior. But I need not socialize with the woman to work with her effectively. She is currently helping Leliana design the Inquisition's uniforms," Cullen said with a grimace.

"What did they settle on?" she asked.

"The troop uniforms aren't too bad. They are Antivan orange and green. The scout uniforms are green and brown. It's an improvement over some of Sister Leliana's original ideas. Lady Montilyet informs me that fabric in those colors is fairly easy to obtain, and relatively inexpensive. She'll be making contacts with merchants and tailors once we have determined where the Inquisition's base of operations will be. I will do the same with armourers," Cullen said.

Cassandra's lip curled in a small smile. "What do you think of the design for yours?" she asked.

"I take it you've seen it, then?" Cullen asked.

"Yes, including Leliana's original sketch. You should be grateful for the changes Lady Montilyet has made. But what I think is unimportant. What do  _you_  think?" Cassandra asked again.

"I don't know. The color isn't bad. I'm more concerned about the insignia. Lady Montilyet has apparently done her research. As I was a Knight Captain in the Templar Order and I left the order honorably, I am permitted to wear the Templar emblem on my armour. Or so she told me. At length," Cullen said, which made Cassandra snort.

"She can talk, I give you that. But given that talking will be her main duty for the Inquisition, I am not surprised," Cassandra said.

"I suppose not. I...do not know how I feel about putting the Templar emblem on my Inquisition armour. I have left the Order. I left it for a reason. Kirkwall was...well, I no longer belong with the Order," Cullen said.

"We already have several templars who have joined us. I expect that after the Conclave we will have many more. You are seen as one of the heroes of that mess in Kirkwall, Cullen. You represented the Order with honor, both at the battle and in the years since, which was much needed after what Meredith did. I think if you have the emblem on your armour it will rally even more templars to our cause, I do not think that is a bad thing. Plus, you were a templar for more than half your life, were you not? I think that is not something you can leave behind, nor should you," Cassandra said.

"I suppose," Cullen acknowledged.

"And I think the burgundy and gold looks good with your coloring," Cassandra added, which made Cullen's ears flush a bit.

"Better than that blue that Leliana had," he agreed.

"Oh, I know. You would have looked like a Grey Warden in that, which is probably why she chose it. She has had a soft spot for them since the Blight," Cassandra said.

"So does every Fereldan, actually, but I don't want to look like one. People might start expecting me to kill darkspawn," Cullen muttered.

"Better that than dragons, which is what  _I_  am expected to kill, at least by those who don't know better. In any case, once Lady Montilyet has had a brief rest we can leave for Haven. I suggest you spend the time buying the armour, as you'll want to have it at the Conclave. From what I understand there is a substantial marketplace here, so you should be able to find some ready made."

"Yes, and then just have the embellishments put on it, which a good smith can do in a day, if the price is right,"

Luck had been with him at the marketplace, more or less. The first armourer he visited had a good set of half-plate that fit him quite well. It was apparently a custom order for a nobleman who had died in the ongoing Orlesian civil war. The man was glad to let it go for a reasonable sum, even with the extra coin for adding the Templar insignia to the gauntlets.

"Thought you lot didn't wear anything but the standard," he said when Cullen requested the work.

"I'm retired," he succinctly said. No point in going into detail with the man.

"Huh, didn't think templars did that, but it's your coin, and the design is simple enough. I can have it ready by the sixth hour."

Cullen promised to return at that time, then went off in search of a leatherworker and a cobbler to see if they had the additional pieces he needed in stock, or if they could quickly make them.

* * *

"No."

'Oh come, Cullen, put it on, you'll look fabulous!" Leliana enthused, holding up the...coat, he supposed he had to call it. Monstrosity is what he'd rather call it. There was fur on the collar. Fur! Good thing he hadn't taken that bet with Varric. The helmet was worse. It was either meant for a theatre production or was commissioned by some Orlesian fop. It was a bloody lion's head!

"That would be why I am saying no," Cullen retorted, then appealed to Lady Josephine.

"You let her buy this?" Cullen asked.

"She...would not be dissuaded," the Antivan woman answered.

"Come, with the collar on the coat and the helm you'll look wonderful! So regal. With the lion helm and the coat making the mane….Maker's Breath, we can call you the Lion of Ferelden! It's perfect!" she enthused.

"I must say, you do look very dashing in what you have on so far, Commander," Lady Josephine said, running an eye up and down his form. He would have blushed if he thought she was ogling him, but she had her diplomat's voice on, so he knew she was just trying to get him in the coat.

"Let me guess, there's no time to get anything else?" he growled.

"Well, the market is closed now, and we leave in the morning," Leliana said, giving him an innocent look.

"Of course it is, and of course we are. I will wear that coat, because we're going into the Frostbacks, but I am  _not_  wearing that bloody helm," he said.

"Fine, you look enough like a lion without it," Leliana said, holding out the coat so he could put it on.

"Maker's Breath, what is that supposed to mean? I look like a man, not a giant cat," he muttered while he cinched up the coat and put the gauntlets and pauldrons on over it. He had to admit the lining on the thing was cutting the drafts.

He buckled on the sword belt and shield and turned to the two women. "What do you think?" he asked.

"I think we're going to have to fend off the women with a stick," Josephine said.

"Men, too," Leliana observed, then giggled as Cullen blushed almost as dark as his new coat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I just couldn't resist the chapter title. That ZZ Top song ran through my head the whole time I was writing this.


	5. The Conclave

_From the Personal Journal of Cullen Rutherford_

_9:32 18 Bloomingtide_

_Has it been nearly a year since I opened this? Well, no matter. Knight Commander Meredith seems to have the right idea about mages - they should be kept closely controlled. Some of the Templars, though….they abuse their power. There is a line between control and abuse, and some of the men are on the wrong side of it. I stop it whenever I see it, but I fear there are things I do not see._

* * *

_Haven - 9:41 30 Cloudreach_

They arrived in Haven shortly after midday on the first day of the Conclave. They should have been there the evening before, but Leliana's horse had thrown a shoe. While they'd found a little hamlet - not much more than a wide place in the road, really - with a blacksmith who had enough farrier training to fix it, it delayed them just a little too long.

Cassandra was, to say the least, not pleased. When they got to Haven and it was confirmed that the Conclave had indeed started without them she cursed Varric, she cursed Leliana's horse, she cursed Josephine, she cursed everyone she could think of. Cullen was fairly certain she worked in curses for the Champion of Kirkwall and the Hero of Ferelden as well. She was still in mid-tirade when the world exploded.

At first, no one moved, or spoke, or even breathed. For an instant, Cullen thought he was back in Kirkwall on the day the Chantry exploded. The ground shook just as it had on that day, and the sound...the sound was so eerily familiar. He had to look around and get his bearings before he remembered he was in Haven...and thus realized where the blast must have come from. "The Conclave!" he cried as he ran for his horse. His movement seemed to break the others out of their reverie, and Cullen soon found himself leading a scouting party consisting of his Templars, the Seeker, Leliana, and a few low-ranking retainers and guards who had stayed in Haven to wait for their patrons. He sent Josephine to help some of the Chantry lay sisters set up a field hospital to receive any wounded.

Common sense and a healthy survival instinct kept them at a safe distance, at least at first. There could easily be another blast, and anyone trying to rescue any survivors would become another statistic. It was so hard, though, not to run in and dig through the rubble. The closer they got, the worse it looked. The Temple of Sacred Ashes was in ruins. Even from Haven they could see the column of green...it wasn't flame, but they weren't sure what it actually _was_...touching the sky and the rubble where the temple had once been. As they got closer, they could see the crater and figured out what the green column of not-fire in the sky was. Cullen had felt the wrongness of it when they were still half a mile away, but it was one of the surviving mages - an apostate by his garb, but it hardly mattered now, who first said it. It was a tear in the Veil - the largest anyone had ever seen. He turned to the people with him and began issuing orders.

"You and you - go back and get the healers. There should be supply kits ready for them by now. Once we're sure there won't be any more blasts get people in there to look for survivors. No one goes anywhere alone. That's a tear in the Veil. There will be demons. Don't take chances - keep yourselves safe," he ordered. Grateful to have someone tell them what to do, the people shook themselves out of their shock and hurried to obey. Good. Keeping busy was what they all needed to do. Maker knew he'd learned that lesson over and over again. Had anyone at all survived?

* * *

No one who was in the temple proper had, it seemed. There were some bodies, but not as many as they'd expected. Most of the people had been vaporized by the blast. Small mercy, that. They likely hadn't suffered.

" _Draw your last breath, my friends, Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky._ _Rest at the Maker's right hand, And be Forgiven,_ " Cullen murmured. He was not the only one reciting snippets of the Chant. The devastation was almost more than any of them could comprehend. The Divine was gone. Most of the Grand Clerics were also gone, as were several Knight Commanders and First Enchanters. Cullen was fairly certain that Leliana and Cassandra were the highest ranking members of the Chantry left, unless some Grand Clerics had been unable to attend. He couldn't be sure, as all records of who had attended were gone with the temple.

Leliana had allowed herself one look of horror and a small cry of sorrow before she steeled herself and continued rescue efforts. Cassandra had mouthed a short prayer before doing the same.

They did find a few people here and there, although none inside the temple walls. There were some more members of various nobles' personal guard along with some young templars, some Tranquil, and some lay brothers and sisters who hadn't been high enough rank to be inside who had been in the forecourt when the temple exploded. Some of them had been killed by debris, but a remarkable number of them had survived. He sent the worst of the wounded to the healers and then put the rest to work assisting as much as they could. _Keep moving, just keep moving. This isn't Kirkwall, this isn't Kinloch, just keep moving._

It was several hours after the explosion when they found the only survivor from inside the temple. A rift opened up and she stepped through..or perhaps fell through, depending on who he asked. One soldier said that there was a woman behind her, but she hadn't come though. Demon, maybe, or a frightened (with good reason!) soldier seeing things. It was hard to say. In any case, the woman was unconscious, covered in soot and burns, and there was a mark on her hand that was the same color as the hole in the sky, and pulsed in time with it. There was immediately an accusation that she'd been the cause, but Cullen didn't think so. When Anders had blown up the Chantry, he made a point of surviving it so that he could proclaim that he had done it, and why. This woman had been deep in the temple when it blew. So he stood over her, sword drawn, until the incipient mob backed down, and then sent two of his Templars to take her back to Haven and make sure no one killed her until they'd had a chance to question her. _That_ order seemed to calm people down, so he was sure they were mollified because they thought she'd be killed eventually. He'd worry about that later, though. He had things to do.

Then the demons came in earnest. There had been a few here and there, enough that it confirmed that the hole was indeed a tear in the veil. But once the woman came out of the Fade, it seemed like it opened the floodgates. Slowly, at first - slowly enough that his Templars, who were all veterans of Kirkwall, could deal with them while the others looked for survivors. Then more, but by then the people who had been in Haven - many of whom were bodyguards or retainers of the various nobles at the Conclave - had seen that the demons could be battled and won and were fighting as well. But the demons didn't tire.

Cullen was glad he had decided not to forego the lyrium just yet - Holy Smite was rather effective against demons, especially rage demons. But they just kept coming. By the end of the day they had given up all hope of finding more survivors and were just hoping to contain the demons to the crater that had been the temple. He'd had Leliana send ravens to Jader and anywhere else she could think of to beg assistance, but he didn't know if any help, much less enough, would come in time.

By the end of the second day, they had pulled back to the bridge at the head of the valley. People who were close enough to see the Breach, as they'd begun to call it, were trickling in and helping how they could, but was a losing battle. The demons were taking over.

By the time the third day dawned Cullen was not sure they were going to be able to hold anything at all. The valley was filling with demons. He'd slept in snatches when he was too tired to stand up, had eaten only what he could grab and eat on the run, and yet the demons just kept coming.

Then the prisoner finally woke up.

They were at the forward camp when he got his first good look at her. He'd seen her when she came out of the rift, but she'd been covered in burns and ash and Maker knew what. He watched her close one of the small rifts - thankfully *that* theory had proved correct. He'd have to buy that elf one of whatever it was he drank. As the woman turned away from the rift their eyes met. She was a bit too angular to be called pretty, but there was something about her face...he wouldn't call her plain, either. Handsome, perhaps. Her eyes, though. She'd seen things, just as he had. You could always tell from the eyes.

He said something to her, thanking her for closing the rift, or something equally inane, and then went to rally the troops to buy them time to get to the breach in the temple. He hoped it worked. They depended on this woman now, even if she might be a rather slim reed upon which to pin their hopes.

* * *

"I admit, Cullen, you were right," Cassandra said. They were both back in Haven on the evening of the third day post-explosion, getting some much needed rest and food. But before he could rest he needed to find out exactly what had happened at the temple. He knew that Lady Trevelyan had stopped the demons from coming through, but he needed to know more.

"Well, this is a banner day! What am I right about?" he asked.

"The prisoner - Lady Trevelyan. You never did think she was responsible, did you?"

"No, I don't suppose I did. You agree now, I take it?"

"I do. If you had been there...there were echoes of what happened before the explosion. Most Holy was calling for help, and then a voice asked what was going on. It was _her_ voice. She sounded so confused. There was a man's voice, as well. _He_ was the one who did this to the Most Holy and to the Conclave."

"That's going to be a hard sell to the Chantry. They're still calling for her blood."

"Yes, I've heard Roderick. At length," Cassandra deadpanned, which made Cullen snort.

"The people here are calling her the Herald of Andraste now. They are saying the figure of the woman they saw through the rift she came from must have been Andraste. Although if she hadn't closed the rifts I doubt they'd be singing the same tune. Still, morale is up, so that's good. Since she's stabilized the Breach so that no more demons are falling from it, we're taking back the valley. The forces that have started arriving are helping as well, but if the demons hadn't stopped, we would be overwhelmed," Cullen said. At least they'd all managed to start eating and sleeping again, even if it was just for a few hours at a time. He'd promised everyone a full day of rest once the last demon in the valley was dead, so his men were cleaning up with a will.

"I know. I still don't know what that thing on her hand is, but it does seem to be able to close the rifts. If she'll help us, we have a chance," Cassandra said.

"And if she won't?" Cullen asked. He'd gotten a summary of the information on her from Leliana, and he wasn't at all sure she would help them. Miralys Trevelyan, twenty-eight years old, daughter of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick. No husband, no children. By all accounts an indulged youngest daughter who spent her life either shopping or reading. She'd been sent to the Conclave as part of the delegation from Ostwick as the Trevelyans were not only devout, but mages also ran in the family. They had a vested interest in having one of the family attend. Of course, sending their by all accounts useless youngest daughter meant that perhaps they weren't expecting much from the Conclave...or perhaps she was seen as expendable, if the family had something to do with the explosion. Doubtful, that, but something to consider. He said as much to Cassandra.

"I agree; I don't think her family had anything to do with this, either. But still, they bear watching. As for her...I think she will help. She seemed frightened, but she agreed to help with the Breach willingly enough," Cassandra said.

"And that had nothing at all to do with you threatening to kill her if she didn't'?" Cullen asked, plastering an innocent expression on his face.

"It worked, did it not?" Cassandra asked with some asperity.

"That it did," Cullen agreed. "What's next? With Justinia gone, can we proceed?"

"We can. I have a Holy Writ which was given to me by Divine Beatrix authorizing her Left and Right Hands to reform the Inquisition. It was that which Justinia wished us to use if the Conclave did not work."

"Beatrix wrote it? But she has been gone since shortly after the Blight," Cullen said.

"She gave this to me nearly twenty years ago, shortly after the plot to overthrow her was foiled," Cassandra said.

"Ah yes, I'd heard of that. I was an initiate at the time. Something about a dragon and a young Seeker...who…" Cullen broke off and looked at Cassandra. "Let me guess. You like talking about it about as much as I like talking about Kirkwall," he said, which made Cassandra laugh.

"Finally! Someone who understands. Suffice to say I was not nearly as heroic as the tales make me out to be.. But yes, Beatrix knew a storm was coming, and she left the writ so we could combat it. I'm not sure she expected this, though. I believe she feared assassination through more direct means. But whatever she expected, this is what we have. Once The Herald wakes up we will ask her to assist us and proceed from there,"

"She's still unconscious?" Cullen asked.

"Closer to 'asleep', Solas tells me. She did relapse after stabilizing the Breach, but he says it is mostly exhaustion now. Her energies are low after being unconscious for three days, not to mention surviving that explosion."

"Right. 'Asleep' sounds like a good thing to be at the moment. I think I will go see if I can manage it for a few hours," Cullen said. He hoped that battling demons for three days would just make him so tired that he'd actually sleep soundly, but he doubted it.

Still, it was good to have a plan and a direction. Next he just needed some food in his belly and some time in his tent to examine the inside of his eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! I get a thrill every time I see one hit my inbox. It means so much!
> 
> In case you're wondering, it was actually Divine Beatrix who wrote the Holy Writ that they use to form the Inquisition. That's right from canon - Dawn of the Seeker, to be exact. So the Chantry has known that Bad Things were on the horizon for a long time. I rather doubt they expected this, though.


	6. Meeting the Herald of Andraste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen realizes just how monumental a task they've taken on. He also learns that meetings are a big part of his future.

_9:33 20 Firstfall_

_Maker, what a mess. I had been investigating the disappearances of some Templar recruits. It ended up being maleficarum who were doing it. Blood magic follows me, even here. At least they saved one. Hawke assures me that Recruit Keran was not infected. Given who checked him, I will accept that opinion. I remain skeptical, of course, but as much as Anders and I have clashed over the years, I never thought he was a maleificar. If he were, he would have done a better job escaping._

_Thank the Maker Hawke assisted with my investigation. I did not think to get assistance from any of the Circle mages, and perhaps I should have. They sense things that templars cannot. I would have come to the answer eventually, I think, but not before much more damage was done._

* * *

9:41 - 8 Bloomingtide

Cullen really wished he'd seen Cassandra telling off Chancellor Roderick. She apparently poked him in the chest and everything, at least according to Leliana's retelling of the incident. The man was a menace. They hadn't planned on announcing the Inquisition until they'd talked to Lady Trevelyan about it, but the man apparently pushed Cassandra too far. It seemed to be his one skill. Cullen wondered if the man realized how lucky he was that Cassandra hadn't been wearing her sword. In any case, Cassandra had whipped out the Holy Writ and slammed it on the table, which apparently shut him up, for once.

"Apparently his cock couldn't match it, if he even has one," Cullen muttered to himself, then sent a mental apology to the Maker for that blasphemous thought. Of course, the man had retaliated by having them declared heretics. Cullen didn't  _think_  he was a heretic, but he supposed people who were heretics seldom did. He'd keep praying to Andraste and the Maker and go on doing his job, he supposed.

Cullen continued on his way around Haven, posting notices as he went. He supposed he could get one of his troops to do it, but he preferred to do this himself. He was nailing up recruiting posters, offering places in the newly formed Inquisition's army. He'd already officially recruited the city guard and the templars who had accompanied them from Kirkwall, of course. He stopped to post a notice on the wall of the apothecary shop and nodded to the elf, Solas, then continued on with his rounds and his thoughts. Many of the bodyguards and retainers of the dignitaries killed at the Conclave had joined as well. He should even get some recruits out of the refugees who were trickling in - the mage-templar conflict was displacing a lot of people. It was a good start, but they needed more. Flissa, the tavern keeper, waved to him as he posted his notice on her door. Hopefully by the end of the week he'd have uniforms for them. A tailor and leatherworker were on the way, as were shipments of materials. Weapons and armor would be nice, too, both for Leliana's scouts and for his soldiers. Cullen thought a moment, then added fletcher and bowyer to the list that he kept with him at all times. Pity that the list never seemed to get any shorter, only his pencil. He cursed and added more pencils to the list, as well. He stopped at the smithy and nailed up a notice, nodding to Harritt as he did so. They did have a good blacksmith, thank the Maker. He stopped for a moment to warm up near the forge. Whoever said it was spring was a bloody liar. It was never this cold in Honnleath, and it was further south. He looked over the smithy and noticed that Harritt was still low on bar stock. He'd have to ask Lady Josephine to see about securing a supply, assuming they could pay for it.

Funding was a concern. They were in no immediate danger of starving, but they weren't exactly plump in the pocket, either. Lady Josephine and Sister Leliana were working on getting more coin through their connections. He'd done his part, distasteful as it was, by having his forces comb through the wreckage for valuables. Anything identifiable was being sent back to the families of the victims, but there was very little of that. Most of it had either melted or was not distinctive enough to identify...so they'd sold it all and put the funds to use for the Inquisition, save some funds they set aside to build a shrine up at the temple. As one of their main goals was finding who had done this to the Conclave, he hoped the victims thought it was a good use of their valuables. He also had some ideas for gathering coin once he had more men. But first, he had to get them equipped. There always seemed to be another 'but first'.

He checked on the few horses they had - they needed more of those as well - and then turned back to the Chantry for his first official meeting with the Herald of Andraste.

* * *

Cullen looked Lady Trevelyan over as she walked into the former Revered Mother's quarters, which they'd appropriated as their 'war room'. He'd been told Lady Trevelyan was a sword and shield warrior, but he couldn't see it - not from her build. Granted, women didn't put on muscle like men did. Aveline wasn't that much more bulky than any other woman, for example, but the signs were there if you knew where to look. Lady Trevelyan just didn't have the signs. Perhaps she had trained when she was younger and was simply out of practice. It hardly mattered at the moment, though. They were here to discuss the Breach.

"You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's military forces," Cassandra was saying.

"Such as they are," Cullen responded, which made both Cassandra and Lady Trevelyan offer him wry smiles. "It was just for a moment, on the battlefield. I'm pleased you survived," Cullen continued, to which Lady Trevelyan nodded. Cassandra continued the introductions while Cullen mentally cursed himself.

"' _I'm_ pleased  _you survived?' What in the Maker's name was that, Cullen? Of course I'm pleased she survived, she's our only hope of closing the Breach! Perhaps I should call myself Commander Obvious. Stupid meetings."_ He dragged his attention back to the meeting just as Cassandra was finishing up the introductions.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Lady Trevelyan said. Cassandra and Leliana of course immediately recommended that the Inquisition contact the rebel mages to help provide more power to close the Breach.

"I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well," Cullen retorted.

"Commander, we have talked about this. Enough magic, poured into the mark…" Cassandra argued.

"Could destroy us all. Or kill Lady Trevelyan, at the very least," Cullen snapped.

"I can't say I like that thought," Lady Trevelyan murmured.

"Templars could suppress the breach, weaken it so that the mark could seal it," Cullen continued.

"Pure speculation," Leliana said.

"And pouring magic into that mark, which we know almost nothing about, isn't?" Cullen argued.

"It is a moot point at present. Neither group will speak to us," Lady Josephine broke in.

"Why not?" Lady Trevelyan asked.

Josephine carefully explained that the people had begun calling Lady Trevelyan the "Herald of Andraste" and that the Chantry had retaliated by branding them all heretics. Even though Cullen already knew about their supposed heresy, it pained him to hear her say it.

"How am  _I_  the Herald of  _Andraste_? Maker, my family will have kittens when they find this out," Lady Trevelyan muttered..

"The figure you mentioned, the one with you in the Fade - it was seen by others. They are saying it was Andraste herself. Even if we tried to suppress the rumors, it would not do any good. People are talking about you," Leliana said.

Cullen was watching Lady Trevelyan as Leliana spoke, and he could see that she was growing more uncomfortable by the moment. He attempted to stop Leliana and Cassandra before they ran away with the "Herald" business and made the poor woman bolt from the room.

"Quite the title, isn't it? How do you feel about that?"

"It's...unnerving. I...I go to the Chantry, I know the Chant, but...Herald of Andraste? Thats a lot to live up to," she stammered.

"So it is," Cullen agreed, hoping his tone conveyed his sympathy.

"People need hope. They need a sign. To some, you are that sign," Leliana said.

"And to others, a symbol of everything that's gone wrong," Josephine added.

If anything, Lady Trevelyan looked even more uncomfortable, Cullen thought.

"So you've all been declared heretics because of me," she said with a swallow.

"Oh, let's be honest. We would have been censured no matter what. Roderick made sure of that," Cullen reassured her, which seemed to ease her mind.

They went on to discuss Lady Trevelyan going into the Hinterlands to gather influence, and whatever else she thought might be useful. Cullen mentioned recruiting more people, and also their need for horses, as he knew Redcliffe once had some impressive horse farms. Hopefully they still did.

"I'll do what I can," she said.

"That's all we ask," Cullen assured her.

"I'll start preparing to leave, then," she said, then turned on her heel and left.

"We can't rely on her to do everything. I will be accompanying her to the Hinterlands, so I should also get ready to go. The three of you think of ways we can gather influence, not to mention everything else we need," Cassandra said before turning and leaving as well.

The three of them looked at each other for a moment before sighing, almost in unison.

"This is...a monumental task," Lady Josephine finally said.

"It is, but it is one we must accomplish...for the sake of the Divine," Leliana said. The woman held her emotions close, but Cullen could see she was grieving. Apparently the Divine had been more than a friend - she'd been a mentor to Leliana, perhaps even a mother figure. He could understand her grief, and her anger.

"The world is poorer now that Justinia is no longer in it. I wish I had met her. We'll find who did this thing, and we will make them pay," Cullen said, looking into Leliana's eyes as he did so. She looked back, and for a moment she let the pain slip out, then she nodded and the mask was back in place.

"I am all for revenge on whoever destroyed the Conclave, but to do that we need more influence," Lady Josephine said. "Cullen, do you have any contacts with the Templar Order? Preferably someone of relatively high rank?"

"Knight Commander Hadley of the Ferelden Circle and I used to be friends, of a sort, back when I was stationed there. He was Knight Captain then, of course. I don't know if he was at the Conclave, but I can try contacting him," Cullen said.

"Please do," Josephine said. "What of you, Leli?"

"I have a friend in the Wardens. He wouldn't tell me where the Hero of Ferelden was when I asked before, but now that the Conclave has been destroyed he might be more forthcoming. I'll try again," Leliana said.

"Good. I will appeal to my contacts among the various court ambassadors. They should be able to tell me who is most sympathetic to our cause. Oh, I have some good news. Marquis DuRellion is letting us stay, for the moment."

Cullen scoffed. "Does he not know we are in  _Ferelden_? An Orlesian noble has no claim here."

"He does have a claim through his wife, who is Fereldan. But yes, it is tenuous at best. However, as he has agreed to let us stay, we do not have to expend resources fighting him over it," Josephine said.

"That is a very good point," Cullen agreed. "Speaking of expending resources, if there is nothing else I must get back to building an army."

"Oh yes, I have a thousand and one things to do, as I'm sure you do as well, Leliana," Josephine said.

"I do. Same time tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes, we should make this a daily event," Josephine said.

"Mmm," Cullen responded, which made Josephine laugh.

"Would it help if I had tea prepared for the meetings?" she asked.

"I know I would be more likely to attend if there were refreshments. Oh, Josie, make sure there are pastries, too," Leliana said.

Cullen just shook his head as he left the meeting. He thought he was going to like working with these women, but it was very different than the Templars had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The meeting in game doesn't quite go that way, although it's close. I will be diverging from game dialogue and events a bit. I wouldn't really call it an AU, more a bit of artistic license to deal with the illogic that gameplay creates.
> 
> Thank you so much for the views and the kudos and the comments! it means a great deal!


	7. Training the Herald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition's advisors have meetings. Lots of meetings. And the Herald returns from the first foray into the Hinterlands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re: Cullen's age - I am going on the assumption that Cullen's listed age in the DA:O toolkit, 24, is his age at the beginning of DA:O, which would make him 27 at the time of the journal entry, and 35 at the beginning of DAI. Also, I'm aware that proper writing dictates that I spell out the age numbers in that journal entry below, but it's his journal. He's going to use the numbers to save time and ink.

From the personal journal of Cullen Rutherford

_9:33 - 10 Haring - Kirkwall_

_The recruits get younger every year, I think. Saying that makes me feel old, but sometimes it amazes me that I am only 27. I feel much older. The eldest of the recruits is not yet 18, and decades from me in terms of experience. Training them is a challenge because of that, but very satisfying when they make measurable progress._

_My sister sent me a letter. Apparently I never sent them a letter when I left for Kirkwall. Wonder how she tracked me down? I wouldn't put it past her to have stormed up to Kinloch Hold after swimming the lake. I suppose I could lie to her and tell her I most certainly did and it was lost, but she'd know better. I could almost feel the heat coming off the page as she scolded me. I will write, but I am not sure what to say. I am not the boy who left them, nor am I the naive new templar that I was the last time they saw me. I do not want them to know the details of...well, anything, really. But I will try. Actually, if I'm 27 it means that Mia is closer to 40 than 30 now. If I remind her of that, then she will forget to pry into my affairs._

* * *

9:41 - 15 Bloomingtide - Haven

_Cullen,_

_We've found a horsemaster and he will provide mounts, and at a very reasonable price. But he won't let them go until the area around his farm is less of a war zone. I can't say as I blame him. But we need some help. His hands have asked for watchtowers to be built. Do you have any soldiers who have carpentry or masonry experience? If so, please dispatch them to the Redcliffe Farms camp. We can direct them from there. - CP_

Cullen frowned and passed the message back to Leliana. "So he won't just sell us the horses, we have to pacify the region, too?"

"You shouldn't be surprised. This happened all the time during the Blight. We'd go somewhere asking for help, and to get it we'd have to perform a thousand tasks that they should have been able to do themselves," Leliana said.

"The good will of the people of the Hinterlands will go a long way towards winning us recruits," Josephine said.

"Fine. I will have my Lieutenants ask around the encampment for carpenters or masons. I'm sure there are men who have at least worked around their family holdings," Cullen said, eyeing the platter on the side table. One pastry left. Should he?

"Oh go ahead. Take the last one. I shouldn't have any more anyway," Leliana said.

"They are divine, aren't they, Leli?. But yes. I also should not have another. Please, Commander, take the last one before I am tempted," Josephine said.

* * *

9:41 - 17 Bloomingtide

_Cullen,_

_Can we borrow some templars? At least two - more if you can spare them. There are rebel mages everywhere. My Seeker abilities help, but we need more than that. I'll have more to say about that to you once we're back at Haven. - CP_

"Did she give you any hints about what she means by this?" Cullen asked Leliana.

"You mean that she has more to say to you? No, she did not. My agents report that she is more bad tempered than usual, though," Leliana said.

"That is saying something," Cullen observed, pouring himself another mug of tea. He'd always been indifferent to tea, but this wasn't bad. Josephine and put dried mint in the tea leaves, which was refreshing. Helped keep him alert too. Maker knew he needed it. He hadn't been sleeping much at all of late, which he knew was the first sign of lyrium withdrawal. He couldn't decide if that was worse than the nightmares or not. He was anxious, too, but he certainly had cause at present, so who knew if that was the lyrium or the situation. At least his appetite hadn't yet been affected, as the empty pastry platter could attest.

"The templars, Cullen?" Leliana prompted.

"Oh, yes, of course. My apologies - mind wandered. I'll ask the men. I'd like to have volunteers if I can, but I'll make it an order if I must. I can promise at least two," he answered. He took another drink of his tea. Apparently he needed it.

* * *

9:41 - 21 Bloomingtide

_Dear Commander Cullen,_

_I was happy to hear you survived the Conclave. Commander of the Inquisition's military? Well, you have come a long way. I heard about your work in Kirkwall, though, so I'm not surprised the Inquisition recognized your value.. Many of us here at Kinloch missed the Conclave due to an ague that is going around the Circle. All of us who were sick are thanking the Maker for saving us. Far too many were lost._

_I am sending you four templars and three mages, as soon as they are well enough to travel. They have heard what your people are doing around Redcliffe and want to help. That is unfortunately all I can spare. We are still a functional Circle, thanks to the autonomy granted by Queen Anora in the aftermath of the Blight, but we are much reduced. I might consider joining you myself, but I am needed here._

_I have some contacts at the White Spire. I will write them and let them know of your needs. I cannot promise anything, as Lord Seeker Lucius is not pleased about the Inquisition, but we will see what my contacts have to say. I'll let you know if I hear anything more._

_Knight Commander Hadley_

* * *

9:41 - 24 Bloomingtide

He found out what Cassandra wanted to talk to him about when the group arrived back at Haven. It was apparently a fruitful excursion. They'd claimed quite a bit of territory for the Inquisition. Lady Trevelyan seemed to be able to make people like her, and, by extension, the Inquisition. They'd closed several rifts and had brought in some supplies and recruits. It was good to know that she was genuinely trying to help.

However, Cullen could tell that all was not well. Cassandra cornered him as soon as she'd had a chance to wash off the road dirt. Varric and Solas accompanied her, which was even more alarming.

"You have to do something, Commander," insisted Cassandra. She looked tired, Cullen thought. Actually, they all looked a bit ragged around the edges. The elven mage Solas even looked strained and Cullen had never seen him less than serene.

"You really do, Curly. She's being put on her ass every time we get up to one of those rifts. The Seeker here can't protect her all the time, and she's hopeless at protecting herself," Varric said, to which Solas nodded in agreement.

Cullen blinked in surprise. When Varric and the Cassandra agreed on something it was a miracle...to have the three of them agree - well, the world  _was_  ending, after all. But still, why him?

"Why can't you do it, Cassandra? You're better with a sword than I am," Cullen responded.

"I would debate that. In any case, I have no patience for teaching, especially not teaching novices. You do," Cassandra said.

"Novice? Surely she's not that bad?" Cullen asked.

"Oh, she is, Curly," Varric assured him.

The next day Cullen observed Lady Trevelyan practicing. She was indeed that bad. She'd had some training, but not much, and a long time ago, he thought. She also wasn't strong enough. She did well enough with the light practice sword, but her shield arm was drooping, and it hadn't even been a full hour. Her form was terrible, as well. She was definitely no warrior.

She racked the practice weapons - someone had taught her not to leave even practice blades improperly stored, at least - and turned to the water barrel. She saw him watching and met his gaze.

"Interesting fighting style," Cullen observed, and she had the grace to flush.

"It isn't like I was in the army," she said, a bit defensively.

"Good thing, too," Cullen responded.

"Look, I know I'm no fighter. I never said I was!" Lady Trevelyan said.

"Cassandra said you fought with a sword and shield on the way to the Breach," Cullen said.

"Because there was a  _demon_  coming for me and there was nowhere to run to! Wouldn't you pick up anything to use to protect yourself?"

Cullen inclined his head. "I see your point. Well, you need to keep protecting yourself, and this is a good way to do it - put yourself behind a shield. However, if you don't get better someone is going to get killed, maybe even you, and the Inquisition cannot afford to lose you," Cullen said.

"Only because of this thing," Lady Trevelyan said, gesturing with her marked hand. I'm sure Cassandra would cut off my hand and carry it around like some sort of Hand of Glory if she could," Lady Trevelyan said with a grimace.

"She doesn't hate you, you know. She's just frustrated," Cullen said.

"She's not the only one! Do you think I  _like_  feeling useless? Look, I'm just not good at this," Lady Trevelyan said.

"Well, you're going to get good at it, or at least better," Cullen responded.

"Who's going to teach me, you?" she mockingly asked, then sobered when Cullen smiled. It was his armsmaster smile. The recruits had learned to fear that smile, back when he was the Knight-Captain in charge of the trainees.

"Meet me in the north training ring tomorrow. I expect you to be equipped and ready by sunrise," he said. He had to admit some satisfaction at the apprehension on her face before she firmed her gaze and nodded.

"I'll be ready," she said before turning and walking towards the Chantry

"You'd better," he called out to her retreating back. She turned back and gave him a half annoyed, half worried look before continuing on her way.

"Maker's Breath, I do not have time for this," he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have come to the inspiration for this story. I adored playing a warrior in DA:O. So of course the first character I rolled up in DAI was a sword and board warrior. I'm really, really bad at playing a warrior in DAI. Really. You do not want to know how many times I had to reload after I died. I did get the hang of it eventually, but the first time through the Hinterlands was not pretty. So I decided I wanted to write about an Inquisitor who is hopeless at this fighting thing. I had not originally intended to use Cullen's point of view, but he insisted, so here we are.


	8. Back to Basics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Herald begins her training

From the personal journal of Cullen Rutherford

_9:34 - 17 Wintermarch_

_Visited Hawke at the Amell estate. Met her uncle, Gamlen Amell. I...had not realized. I thought she had just purchased the estate. I did not know she was related to Solona. I had intended to speak with Hawke about the qunari situation, but ended up spending several hours telling her every story I knew about Solona. Hawke has promised she will write her to try and reestablish the family connection. I hope she does. Most mages, in my experience, feel the lack of family very keenly. This reminds me...I need to write to my sister._

9: 41 - 25 Bloomingtide

Cullen arrived at the north practice field about half an hour before sunrise. He'd asked one of the kitchen staff to come wake him when they started the day's baking, just in case he didn't wake on his own as he usually did. This was not a time to lose the upper hand by being late. Thankfully he had slept some last night - Cassandra's Seeker meditation techniques seemed to be more effective at cleansing his mind than the ones he learned with the Templars - so he felt alert enough to outwit Lady Trevelyan. Cassandra said the woman had a talent for talking people into doing things. She'd talked Horsemaster Dennett into coming out of retirement, after all, and after talking to the man he would have bet coin that the crotchety older man was immune to any and all charm. She wasn't going to talk her way out of this, though,not if he had anything to say about it.

Cullen spent the time waiting for her to arrive walking around the practice yard to limber up his muscles. He highly doubted that he'd be sparring with Lady Trevelyan today, but if he didn't take the time to make sure he was warmed up, that would guarantee that he needed to be.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Lady Trevelyan arrived and the practice yard. Cullen was glad to see that she'd come dressed in her armour, but he was less impressed to see that it was a light splint mail. He supposed that made sense, but she'd have to get used to wearing heavier gear for protection, not to mention impressing the people she talked to, especially nobles. Her splint mail had been skillfully patched, but it had obviously been repaired many times, probably due to all the disastrous fights that Cassandra had described to him. No one would be impressed by it, especially nobles. He mentally added "better armour for the Herald of Andraste" to his list. He had to deal with this training session first, though.

"On time, thank you, Lady Trevelyan," Cullen said.

"I do follow orders, Commander," she said with a small smile

"Good. First things first. You need to warm up. Jog around the practice ring twenty times. Start slow," Cullen said.

"But I'm wearing my armour," Lady Trevelyan protested.

"Did I not just hear you say that you followed orders?" Cullen responded, which made her flush. "If you need to run from a battle you're going to be in full armour. You need to learn to run in it," Cullen continued.

"MOVE!" he barked when she did not immediately begin running. She moved.

* * *

 

"I thought we were going to spar," Lady Trevelyan said after she ran her twenty laps. She was sweating and breathing hard, which Cullen had expected. She wasn't fat, but she didn't get a great deal of exercise, he thought. She did not have the muscle tone that most human and dwarven female warriors developed. Elves seemed to remain lithe regardless, but that was beside the point. _Focus, Cullen_. She read a lot, from what he had heard. A pastime that wasn't conducive to muscle development, to be sure. First he'd get her stronger and more agile, then he'd work on her competence with a blade. Keeping her alive was far more important than teaching her to kill things, so first he'd teach her how not to get hit, then he'd teach her how to hit things.

"Oh you aren't ready for that. We need to build up your endurance and your muscles first, Hard to kill things if you can't lift a sword" he said.

"I can lift a sword!"

"For a few minutes. What if you're in a battle that goes on for a quarter hour or more? I've heard you've had some like that," he responded. Although I don't believe you've ended up conscious at the end of any of those, he mentally added.

"Fine. What am I supposed to do? she asked.

"Run around the practice field until I say stop," he answered.

"I just did that!"

"And now you're doing it again," Cullen responded. "But first, put on that pack. You will get stronger," Cullen said.

Lady Trevelyan went to lift the pack and staggered. "It must weigh three stone or more! I can't run carrying that!" she cried.

"Then run until you no longer can, then walk. But you are doing what I tell you. Do you want to be killed?"

"No, but…"

"Do keep talking back to me. Cassandra has tasked me with making you a better fighter, and I will not fail in that task. I have no qualms about keeping you out here all day if I have to," he pleasantly said.

"We have a meeting at the eighth hour," she reminded him.

"I'm aware. And if you are not finished practicing to my satisfaction by then, I will go get the other three and bring them here for the meeting. You can certainly listen while you run," he responded.

Lady Trevelyan pouted for a moment and started to say something, then she looked at Cullen and the implacable expression on his face. She sighed and hefted the pack, buckled it on, and began jogging. She managed four full laps at a shuffling lope before she started walking, he had to give her credit for that. Swordwork would have to come later; it was more important that she gain some endurance first. Also that she learned to do as she was told without arguing. Cassandra had told him of several instances where she would have been unhurt if he'd just done what Cassandra told her. Obeying the experts on the field, more than anything, would keep her alive until she learned better how to defend herself.

* * *

 

"Lady Trevelyan will be a bit late. We should probably start without her," Cullen said as he walked into the morning War Room meeting.

"You didn't break her, did you?" Cassandra asked.

"No, I just made her run in full armour and field pack for an hour. She's so tired she can hardly move. She's having a bath," Cullen said, heading over to the refreshments tray.

"She's truly that green? I thought you were exaggerating for effect," Leliana said.

"She truly is," Cassandra said, flatly.

"Cullen, if she calls asleep in the bath she could drown," Josephine said.

"She won't. I told one of the servants to keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't," Cullen responded. "Now, about the Templars. I've had a message from Kinloch. He's heard from a contact in Val Royeaux. Strange things are going on. I believe we should investigate further."

"We should go to Val Royeaux in any case. We need to try to talk to the Chantry," Cassandra said.

Cullen stated to speak, but was interrupted by the door opening. Lady Trevelyan hurried into the room with a murmured apology. She was flushed and her hair was loose, probably because it was still damp from her bath. He hadn't realized how long it was - the brown waves fell just shy of her waist. She should probably cut it off- if it came unbound in combat it was a liability, but as she usually kept it ruthlessly tamed he supposed he wouldn't press the issue. He was pleased to see that she'd put her armour back on, as he'd instructed. "You need to get used to the weight. Wear it everywhere," he had instructed. She did listen. Of course, the threat of what he'd do if he saw her out of it might have had some effect, as well.

"Glad to see you could join us," he mildly sad. Her head came up and her brown eyes narrowed at him. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

"You did such a thorough job on my training this morning, Commander, that I felt I must bathe before attending this meeting. I didn't want to offend your delicate sensibilities," she said.

"Oh we would have survived. We would have just cut the meeting short," Leliana said.

"Ah, perhaps I should have neglected to bathe, then," Lady Trevelyan responded, which earned her a chuckle from all of them, including Cullen. He was impressed, truth be told. He'd half expected her to skip the meeting entirely, but she was only a few minutes late and he'd managed to make a joke out of it. She was still a sad excuse for a warrior, but at least she wasn't entirely hopeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! I truly appreciate every one who takes the time. Seeing the notices pop up in my email makes me smile every time I see one, and encourages me to keep going, even in the face of a crazy busy week. Thanks for your patience! Special thanks to everyone on the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers Group on Facebook for the wonderful discussions about Cullen and the lore - it's helped so much!
> 
> I'm glad you all like that Miralys is incompetent. It makes sense for her. I'll admit this first training session wasn't particularly epic, but she is really starting pretty much from the beginning.


	9. The Herald Speaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Trevelyan articulates her thoughts on her new training regimen, and her trainer.

_From the personal journal of Miralys Trevelyan_

_9:25 - Ostwick_

_Maxwell was sent to the Circle. He set the bed hangings in his room on fire. I hope I'm not a mage. I don't want to set things on fire. Well, not like that. I'd like to burn some of Evelyn's hand me down dresses. All her things are brown and orange and it just makes me look horrible. But Evelyn's gowns are still perfectly serviceable, according to Mother, so I have to outgrow them before they go to the servants. I hope I grow more soon. I don't like being the smallest._

* * *

9:41 - 25 Bloomingtide - Haven

Miralys was nearly in tears by the time she staggered back to the small hut that she slept in these days. The pack that  _man_  had made her carry had wrenched her shoulders, she was sure of it. And her legs felt like the noodles that Cook used to put in the Antivan style soup she would make when Miralys didn't feel well. She'd kill for some of that soup. She'd kill Commander "do keep talking back to me" Cullen even if she didn't get any soup.

Thank the Maker she'd already ordered a bath to be readied for her when she got back - the servants were finishing filling it as she entered. The quietly thanked them and waved them out. She almost asked for help taking off her armour, but no - they couldn't be allowed to see how tired she was, and she couldn't keep up the pretense for much longer.

He'd made her run. In armor! He was a sadistic fiend. To think she'd thought he was handsome. And smart. He was the practical one in the War Room meetings, even if he seemed to distrust magic. He had been a templar, though, and so she wasn't surprised. Her relatives who were templars felt much the same way.  _They_  wouldn't have made her run with a pack full of rocks, though. ' _He's trying to keep you alive_ ,' the practical voice in her head said, but she didn't want to listen to it right now. She ached too much. She started peeling off her armour, putting it away properly as she did so. Regardless of how incompetent she was with a blade, she knew how important it was to care for equipment.

_'You really are incompetent. You have to get better',_  that inner voice said. She knew it was right, but it still galled. And why him? She always felt so much...less...when she was around him. It was bad enough around Cassandra, but him? He was a leader, more than she'd ever be. No matter how hard she tried, she'd never inspire like he so easily did. The templars in Haven would die for him. Most of the other troops would too. They'd all been ready to kill her when she came out of the rift, or so she'd heard.. He had saved her. That made it worse in some ways. She'd almost died of embarrassment when she found out that the Commander had stood over her, sword drawn, until the men had stood down. She owed him her life. He was still a sadistic ass, though.

Miralys sighed, pulling the pins out of her hair and running her hands through it. She'd sweated enough that she had to wash it. Bother. Well, they could just deal with her having damp hair at the meeting. Perhaps she should cut it short, like Cassandra's or Leliana's, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The nut-brown hair, thick and shiny with health, was her one good feature. Even her older brothers didn't tease her much about it, other than to say it was boring brown, just like the rest of her. Her siblings all had the Trevelyan looks - blond hair, blue eyes, and chiseled Marcher features. Miralys was a throwback to their father's grandmother, who was Antivan. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown skin. Well, browner than theirs. She kept covered up, in case she freckled. She tried to remind Mother than Antivans didn't freckle, so she probably wouldn't, either, but of course Mother didn't listen.

"Guess I'll find out soon enough if I freckle, if Commander Sadist has anything to say about it.," she muttered as she began to wash. Mother would have kittens the next time she saw her...if there was a next time.

* * *

She scurried into the Chantry just a few minutes after the eighth hour, damp hair flying behind her. She was feeling her earlier exertions in her thighs, but at least she could still run, for the moment. The crippling pain would come later. She slipped into the War Room with a quiet apology and stepped into her normal spot.

Commander Slavedriver made a mocking comment, she covered with a joke, and the others laughed, so she guessed it worked.

"We were just discussing our need to travel to Val Royeaux," Cassandra said.

"To do what?" Miralys asked.

"Speak with what remains of the Chantry leadership. Perhaps we can convince the more moderate of them to speak against the charges of heresy. Mother Giselle has given us some names of clerics who might be swayed," Leliana said.

"We also need to speak with the Templars. I've heard from a contact in the Order. He has heard of strange happenings in the garrison at Val Royeaux," Cullen said.

"It will be a good opportunity to feel out the Templars, see if they are willing to help us," Miralys said.

"Have you decided, then?" Cassandra asked.

"Not really," Miralys said with a sigh. "I can see the benefit to both, but I'm biased. Closing rifts...it hurts. Trying to close the Breach the first time nearly did me in, so I'm not sure I want the Mark to be  _more_  powerful. But we should at least talk to both groups, see what they have to say. If either group refuses to help, that rather makes the decision easy, don't you think?" she said.

Josephine held up her hand and waggled it for a moment. "Depends on the vehemence of the refusal. There's the 'come back with a better offer' refusal, the 'I am having fun arguing and would like you to work for it' refusal…"

"Yes, yes, Josie, we know that there are as many ways for someone to say 'no' as there are Dwarven words for stone," Leliana said, but she smiled at the ambassador as she said it. Clearly the two women had been friends for a long time.  _'Must be nice,'_  Miralys thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the views and kudos. It's so wonderful to open my email and see all the notifications!


	10. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herald isn't the only one out of practice.

_From the personal journal of Cullen Rutherford_

_9:34 - 5 Drakonis_

_The Qunari finally attacked the city, to no one's surprise. Hawke was a great help in driving them off...actually she's the reason they've left. She killed the Arishok in single combat. I would have paid money to see that, but I was busy trying to hold of the army of Qunari trying to take the city. Maker's Breath, Qunari are huge. My shield arm may never be the same._

_We're still cleaning up, but Viscount Dumar is dead. He was a good man, and he did his best for the city. Meredith is keeping the city running in the meantime, which means that running the Order has fallen mostly to me. I hope they choose a new viscount soon, before I am overwhelmed with paperwork. I miss training recruits._

* * *

9:41 - 9 Justinian - Haven

"The Lord Seeker did what?" Cullen asked. He was completely at a loss. The report Cassandra had sent back via raven had said only that they were on their way back from Val Royeaux and they would report in person. Now he knew why. It was too much to put on the small bits of parchment the ravens carried.

"Believe me, Cullen. If I had not seen it, I would not have believed it, myself. It was very unlike him," Cassandra said.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona was all that was cordial, though," Lady Trevelyan said.

"Does that make our decision, then?" Cullen asked.

"Perhaps. The Templars may still be amenable to persuasion...we just have to gather some influence. Many templars are younger sons and daughters of nobles. We could appeal to their noble parents," Josephine said.

"My sister Evelyn is a templar," Lady Trevelyan said, "although she's still in Ostwick as far as I know, so that doesn't really help. Never mind."

"There is no such thing as useless information," Leliana said with a small smile. Lady Trevelyan smiled back in gratitude. Cullen noticed she'd been speaking a bit more in these meetings, which he thought was good. The woman usually had to be involved in implementing the decisions made here, after all, thanks to that mark on her hand.

"Your family is already seeing how they can turn you being The Herald of Andraste to their advantage. We might as well see if Bann Trevelyan can do anything for us in return. Ostwick is not  _that_  far, after all," Josephine said.

"Please. If he's going to trade on this, we should get something out of it, too," Lady Trevelyan said. The look on her face told Cullen that being used by her family was nothing new to her. It made him glad he was a commoner.

"Do we know where the Templars have gone?" he asked.

"Just that they headed east out of Val Royeaux. I have agents monitoring the routes. We will know soon enough," Leliana said.

"Good. Let me know as soon as you have word. I have some ideas," Cullen said. Some of the junior templars, the ones who survived the Conclave, might be willing to "rejoin" the templars in order to gather more information. Once they knew where the Templars had gone he'd talk to his people and see if it was feasible.

"I'll go to Redcliffe to meet with the mages. I don't think we should commit to either side until we at least try to talk to them both. I know your feelings on mages, Commander, but given how the Lord Seeker reacted, I'd like to hear what the Grand Enchanter has to say," Lady Trevelyan said. She looked like she was expecting him to argue.

"Of course. It only makes sense to hear out both sides," Cullen said. There was no point in reiterating his preference for the Templars. Everyone knew how he felt. If the Lord Seeker wouldn't even talk to them, it was rather a moot point. Still, he'd write to Knight Commander Hadley again and see if he knew anything. It couldn't hurt.

* * *

Cullen headed out to the practice field after the meeting. Lady Trevelyan had already had her training early this morning, and now it was his turn. He'd been neglecting his own practicing due to the deluge of reports that he faced, and it was starting to show. His leathers were getting a bit snug. Besides, he needed to know if his talents would still answer, if he called on them.

He stepped into the forms, easily as breathing. The muscle memory was still there, at least.  _Lunge, slash, block. Thrust, parry, bash._

When he reached for a Cleanse it was still there, but not as easily. It felt like he had to reach through a barrier first before the power would answer and, even when it did, it came more slowly than it once had. Just a split second, but in a battle, that was enough. He'd have to learn to compensate. Or perhaps not. ' _You'll lose them eventually, Cullen. Learn to do without_ before  _the next real battle. That's what training is for.'_  Nearly half a lifetime of conditioning was not easy to overcome, however.

"I thought you had stopped taking lyrium already," Cassandra said with a frown. She'd left her own practice to come watch him. Only fair, he supposed, since he'd told her to keep a eye on him.

"I did, when you were in the Hinterlands. I didn't want to make a big thing of it," he said, not pausing in his routine.  _Lunge, slash, block._

It had been, though. He'd stared at his philtre kit for what seemed like hours. His hands remembered the motions to make a philtre, even without him giving it conscious thought. It would have been so easy to just let his hands make the decision for him. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, putting the box away. But he'd done it.  _Thrust, parry, bash._

"It's been weeks, then, and you still have your powers? I would have thought…" Cassandra said, breaking his reverie.

"We don't lose them immediately. It doesn't often come up, but there have been reports of templars not losing their talents for months. Most either die or go mad or go back on lyrium before that, though," Cullen said.  _Block, Slash._

"True enough," Cassandra agreed with a sigh. "How are you faring, Cullen?" she asked.

"Me? I'm fine..." he said, then paused his practicing at Cassandra's arch look and reluctantly admitted the truth. "It's begun, as I'm sure you've noticed," he admitted.

Cassandra concentrated on him for a moment. "Well, you do still have lyrium in your system...more than I would have thought, actually. That would explain why you sill have your powers" Cassandra said.

"You can sense the lyrium in my body?" Cullen asked.

"I could set fire to it if I cared to. It's a Seeker power. Not all of us develop it, but I have it."

"That's...rather frightening, actually," Cullen said.

"Yes, it's one of the things that makes the Seekers so feared. Mages and templars bend to my will, if I choose. I promise not to do so to you, though. Well, not unless you really irritate me," she said.

Cullen looked at her for a moment in some alarm, but then caught the small smile playing at the corner of the Seeker's mouth. "So you're saying I should start agreeing with you more in the morning meetings, then?" he ventured.

Cassandra sly smile widened a bit. "No, I would not use my power over something as petty as that. If you take the last pastry, though, that's another matter entirely," she said, which made Cullen snicker.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, "although I doubt it will be an issue for long. The nausea should be starting soon," he said.

"Be sure and see the alchemist. I am sure he knows how to make an anti-nausea potion. What are your other symptoms?" Cassandra asked.

"I'm having trouble sleeping, and I have a headache more often than not. When I do sleep, I have nightmares, more than usual," he said.

"We all have nightmares these days, Cullen. We have ample cause," Cassandra said, the faraway look in her eyes telling Cullen that she was thinking of the Conclave. He supposed she certainly had cause for nightmares. She'd lost a lover and several friends at the Conclave, after all.

"These dreams are of Kirkwall, and the Blight. I have been troubled by them for a long time," he said.

"Too bad. Some new ones would at least been a novelty," Cassandra deadpanned, which made Cullen snort a laugh.

"Well, the Inquisition is young. I am sure something will trigger something new eventually," he responded, which made Cassandra's lips twist in a wry smile.

"Like having to watch the Herald get herself killed because I can't keep every demon off her flank?" she asked.

"Yes, like that. One of yours, is it? Well, the training I'm giving her will hopefully help with that," Cullen said.

"And how is the training going?" Cassandra asked.

Cullen gladly answered, grateful for the subject change. "Well enough, when she doesn't backtalk me. She's getting stronger. Of course, once she puts on the heavier armour I'm having made for her, she will be back to square one, but at least she'll have the heavier gear to protect her," Cullen said.

"We will be leaving for the Storm Coast tomorrow," Cassandra said.

"It won't be ready by then, but she shouldn't take it with her anyway. She needs time to get used to it. As for the Storm Coast, I talked to that fellow from The Chargers before he left. They seem to be a good company, from what Leliana has been able to find out, and frankly, we need the men. Recruits are trickling in, but having a mercenary company will help. Don't know about having one led by a Qunari, but it's certainly worth meeting them," Cullen said.

"Indeed. I will let you get back to your practice," Cassandra said, "unless you'd care to spar? The training dummies, they don't fight back."

"No, they certainly don't. I'd like that," he said. Cassandra nodded and went to get a practice sword and shield. It would be good to spar with a brother-in-arms as talented as the Seeker.

* * *

By the end of their match they'd attracted a small crowd. Cullen ignored the audience - all his attention was focused on keeping pace with Cassandra. He was feeling the lack of sleep most keenly. He wondered why he'd thought this was a good idea.

He blocked her lunge with his shield, but she followed up with a shield bash to his side. He sidestepped, but his foot slipped - on nothing as far as he could tell, and he nearly went down on one knee.

"You're getting sloppy, Cullen," Cassandra admonished.

"I'm getting tired," he admitted, getting his shield up just in time to deflect a blow.

Cassandra followed her slash with a shield bash to Cullen's unprotected side. He barely managed to parry, deflecting some of the impact, but the bash still staggered him a bit. He redoubled his efforts, following through the parry with a riposte, which managed a touch on Cassandra's leg.

"You're bleeding. That will slow you," he commented, assuming the injury she would have suffered if they'd been fighting for real.

"That bash would have bruised your ribs, maybe cracked them. Hard to say which of us would fall first," she said.

"I may really have a bruise out of that hit," he agreed.

"As may I. Call it a draw?"

"Gladly. I wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway," Cullen said, shaking his head. He was breathing harder than he should be. Maker, the withdrawal was taking this much of a toll already? He knew it was the lack of sleep more than true withdrawal symptoms, but he hated to imagine what he'd be like in a month.

"You give yourself too little credit. I had to work for that," Cassandra said, taking a drink from the water barrel that was kept on the edge of the ring. "I'm off to have a bath and find some lunch," Cassandra said, suiting actions to words. The audience that had gathered left with her, thankfully.

Cullen racked his practice weapons and got a drink from the water barrel. He thought about plunging his head into it, but then it would no longer be fit to drink, so he resisted. He did grab one of the nearby lengths of cloth and wiped his face, though. He was sweating despite the cold, and his face was probably red from his exertions. He hadn't had to work that hard in a practice in a while. Being the acting Knight Commander of Kirkwall had left him little time for arms work. Going off lyrium had only made it worse.

"Maker, that was stupid," he muttered. What had he been thinking? Cassandra was obviously in top form, and he was most certainly not. He supposed continuing to practice was the only way to fix that, though, which made him want to laugh at himself. Now he knew how Lady Trevelyan felt.

He turned to leave the ring and saw the object of his thoughts standing there. Apparently she'd been in that audience that had been watching his less than stellar performance. Wonderful. She'd probably been thrilled to see him bested.

"That was amazing, Commander," Lady Trevelyan said as she stepped into the ring. Cullen paused a moment. Was she mocking him? But no, she seemed sincere enough.

"Not as much as it should have been. I'm not at my best," Cullen admitted, which made Lady Trevelyan raise an eyebrow.

"You're better than I'll ever be, and this is an off day for you?"

"I've been doing this for more than half my life, you know," he said. "You've had a week," Cullen said. He grabbed another ladle of water and drank.

"Oh, more like a month, if you count the training I got when I was a teenager. There was talk of me becoming a Templar at one point," Lady Trevelyan said, sitting down on one of the benches near the water barrel.

"Oh? Why didn't you join the Order?" Cullen asked.

"You've seen me fight. The weaponsmaster declared me hopeless. So I became a lay sister, instead. I mostly served in the Chantry Archives. My love of books served me well there."

"You're a lay sister?" Cullen asked. He wondered if that had been in Leliana's report. It probably had been, at least in the long version. He didn't always read the long versions of reports that didn't directly concern the Inquisition's military. Their spymaster was...thorough.

"I was. You know how it is with noble families. There's an heir and a spare, then there's the rest. Some families put the rest in the military, but the Trevelyans go to the Chantry."

Cullen actually didn't really know how it was with noble families, but there was no point in telling her that. "You didn't take vows, though?" he asked.

"No...Father was holding Evelyn and me in reserve for marriage alliance. He'd actually started negotiations with one of the lesser branches of the Vaels. Evelyn really objected, so it fell to me. That's why I left the Chantry, actually, but nothing came of it. They were all killed."

"I remember hearing about that. I'm sorry," Cullen said, not knowing what else to say. He couldn't even imagine having no say in who you married.

"Oh, don't be. I'd only met him once. Truth be told I was a bit intimidated. Starkhaven is a bit more...posh...than Ostwick. I'd wondered how I would fit in there. At least Father didn't make me go back to the Chantry. By then my sister Evelyn decided she wanted to go to the Chantry - she's a templar, as I said - which left Father with just Gerald and me. So I became the spare."

"Ah," Cullen said,not sure what else to say. He would never understand nobles. It sounded like she hadn't had an easy time of it, though.

"And you don't want to hear me lecture you about my family," Lady Trevelyan said, standing up and heading out of the practice ring.

Cullen almost called her back, but he let her go - he really was too tired to intelligently discuss the nobility, but he could have tried harder. The poor woman probably thought he was a complete ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for all the views and kudos! I apologize for the delay in getting this most recent chapter up. I caught the bug that's going around my work, and it knocked me flat out for over a week. I'm doing much better, though!


	11. The Storm Coast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herald heads to the Storm Coast

_From the personal journal of Miralys Trevelyan:_

_9:25 Dragon - Ostwick_

_Father says that I am still to go to the Chantry, even though Maxwell has gone to the Circle. Gareth is the heir and Evelyn is the spare, and the Trevelyans always send someone, so that someone is me. Never mind that I have no desire to be a Revered Mother. I pointed out that if Evelyn is the spare now then we might need me for an alliance marriage. I don't know about that, either, but it would be better than the Chantry. So Father has said I can be a lay sister for now. It isn't what I wanted, exactly, but it is better than I feared. Mother said she was surprised I managed to talk him into that much, so that's something, I suppose._

* * *

 

9:41 Dragon - The Storm Coast

He was an ass. She'd just been trying to talk to the man, but she'd been getting nothing but monosyllabic grunts in return. It was worse than talking to Gerald.

_He did just finish sparring. How much do you feel like talking after he makes you practice?_

Still an ass.

_Why are you still thinking about this? It's been days. You've recruited a mercenary band. You're on your way to go deal with an Andrastean cult. Let it go._

"Because he's the commander of the army and I need to work with him," Miralys muttered to herself.

_Uh-huh._

"Fine, I want him to like me," she mumbled, then looked around guiltily to be sure no one had heard her. Talking to herself. Out loud.

_Well, if he doesn't, then he_ is _an ass._

An ass that was really good at what he did, though. Even if he did think that he was not at his best, he was better than she would ever be, and at least as good as Cassandra. The Seeker was definitely favoring the leg that Cullen had hit during their practicing the day before they left. That probably meant that Cullen was feeling the Seeker's hits, too.

_Good._

"So, Boss, you know how to use that shield you're carrying?" Iron Bull asked. Miralys jumped and looked at the leader of the mercenary band she'd hired, wondering how someone so big could move so quietly. And how had she not seen him? He was seven feet tall and had horns, for pity's sake. He hoped he hadn't heard her conversation with herself. His face gave nothing away, but with a Qunari, who knew? She couldn't blame him for wondering about her skills. She'd more or less stayed out of the fight that his Chargers had been engaged in when they came across them. She told herself that she needed to judge the mercenaries' fighting prowess, but truly? She didn't trust in her ability to not get herself killed.

Miralys stifled a sigh before answering. "I'm learning," she said. He was a Qunari spy - Ben Hasserath, he'd said - so he'd find out anyway. No point in lying.

The big man laughed and clapped her on the back, staggering her so badly she nearly fell on her face. "Gotta give you points for being honest, Boss. Come see me once we make camp. I'll give you some pointers."

"Don't do it, Herald, unless you want to fall flat on your arse," the company's second in command - a boyish looking Tevinter man - said.

"Oh, I do that anyway," she muttered, which made Bull laugh even more.

"You're a talker, not a fighter, I get it. I could see it when you insisted my men finish their cask of ale before we hit the road."

"Seemed a shame to waste it," Miralys said.

"And makes you look like the good guy," Bull retorted.

"That's my job, making people like me," Miralys answered with a bright smile.

"Thought your job was closing rifts," Bull said.

"That too," Miralys agreed. Bull gave her an arch look, but said nothing further on the matter.

* * *

 

Miralys looked over the wooden palisade that held the group that called themselves Blades of Hessarian. She'd not heard of them - the Chantry tended to pretend that cults like this didn't exist - but the Fereldans in the group had educated her. They believed that they dispensed justice in the name of Andraste, and that whoever carried "the blade of Hessarian" was their undisputed leader. The consensus seemed to be that the sword probably wasn't actually Archon Hessarian's, but that didn't really make much difference to these men.

Scout Harding wanted to kill them all after she'd found out what happened to her scouts, but she recognized that the Inquisition didn't have the manpower to do that. They had taken a token off one of the bodies that seemed to be some sort of insignia. They were hopeful that between the token and Miralys being called the Herald of Andraste that they'd be able to peacefully approach the camp and talk. But there was no guarantee that would work. So she needed to talk to Iron Bull, Cassandra, and Harding.

"All right. We try to talk to them tomorrow. We need to rest first," Miralys said.

"What if they don't want to talk?" Cassandra asked.

"Then we fight!" Bull answered. He seemed entirely too pleased by the prospect.

"We should prepare for that. I'd rather not walk into a trap," Miralys said.

"I can put my best archers up on the ridge," Harding said. "The ones with Nevarran longbows can easily reach into their camp and pick people off."

"That will help," Cassandra said.

"I can have the Chargers hang back. If it looks like it's going pear-shaped, then they can come in as reserves," Bull said.

"That will help too. All right, we have a plan. Hopefully we won't need it. We need to make clear to them that killing Inquisition troops is not acceptable, but I'd like a peaceful resolution to this, if possible," Miralys said, to which Harding responded by making a face.

"I don't like the loss of your people either, but we don't have the resources for vengeance," Miralys said. Harding sighed, but she nodded.

"I understand, Herald," she said.

"You've come to challenge for leadership?" asked the gate guard at the palisade.

"We've come to talk. We are with the Inquisition," Miralys answered. The guard looked at the green light coruscating from her left hand and his eyes widened a bit.

"You're the one they're calling the Herald of Andraste," he said.

"That is what they're calling me, yes," Miralys said. She couldn't bring herself to say she actually was the Herald of Andraste, but she couldn't really deny it anymore. Josephine had convinced her that the Inquisition needed the symbolism.

"Our leader...he says you cannot be Andraste's chosen...he'll...he'll want to speak with you," the man stammered, and stepped aside. The other guard hesitated, but did the same. "They have the crest, let the hand decide," he said, and let them pass.

"Let's see how this one does. The others failed," they heard one of them say as they passed through the gate.

"I do not like the sound of that," Cassandra said as they entered the camp. Everyone gave them a wide berth as they approached. A few pointed them towards the back of the camp, to a man who was presumably the leader.

"You wish to challenge the Blades of Hessarian?" the big bearded man asked.

Miralys looked up at him, suddenly afraid. He had an axe, and looked like he knew how to use it. But she had to try. At least he was lightly armoured.

"I come to talk to you. We are the Inquisition. You have killed our soldiers without provocation, and we cannot let that stand," she said. She was proud that her voice did not quaver.

The minute he unslung his axe she knew she was in trouble. "You want justice? Take it!" he cried. Miralys ducked as he swung, then rolled out of the way of a huge marbari that had come when its master summoned it. Thankfully Bull and Cassandra moved to intercept the two big dogs without her having to ask.

"Coward! You should be challenging me one on one!" the leader called.

"You have your helpers, I have mine," Miralys answered, and set her sword and shield in the guard position, hoping against hope she would be able to block his axe. She'd begun working on blocking drills, but most of the time they consisted of Cullen yelling at her to get her guard up and telling her she'd be dead if she were in a real fight. Focus, Miralys! This is a real fight and you'll be really dead if you don't!

"Oh, this is going to be fun, little girl," the bandit leader said with a feral grin, which quickly turned into a look of shock as an arrow sprouted from his eye. He fell over almost without a sound. Miralys blinked in confusion, and then realized what must have happened.

"Harding," Miralys murmured, then turned to face the rest of the camp, expecting cries of foul and an attack. Instead she saw Cassandra and Bull finishing off the two marbari, and a semicircle of people watching. One man stepped forward.

"The Blades of Hessarian are at your service, Herald," he said. Apparently the gate guard had told them all who she was.

"You serve the Inquisition now?" she asked.

"We serve you, Herald of Andraste. It's the same thing, I suppose," he answered.

"And there's no ill will for killing your leader?"

"The man was a bastard, and little better than a brigand. You're not the first to challenge him. You're just the first to win. We are all happy with that. Many of us did not agree with what he was doing, but it is not our place to question. We'd rather serve the Herald of Andraste. We've heard of what you're doing, and we'd like to be part of it," he said.

"Thank you, we could use more allies. I will station a small group of soldiers to act as liaison. Their leader will speak for me in this," Miralys said. The man saluted, fist over heart, then stepped back to let them pass.

"You recruited an Andrastean cult?" Cassandra asked as soon as they were out of the palisade.

"Everyone says we need more allies." Miralys said.

"They are little better than butchers," Cassandra scoffed.

"Yes, but now they're our butchers. At least they're Andrastean," Miralys said.

"Besides, Cass, they supposedly have complete loyalty to their leader. As long as the Herald here doesn't tell them to do anything stupid, we should be fine," Bull said.

"You will address me as Cassandra, or Seeker. Not Cass," Cassandra said.

"Whatever you say, Cass," Bull answered. Cassandra just sniffed.

* * *

 

Once they were back at camp they briefed everyone on what had happened. Harding was congratulated for her fine shot, and Miralys was lauded for recruiting more agents for the inquisition with minimal bloodshed. Once that was done the soldiers went to get their supper and Bull, Cassandra, and Varric gathered around the fire to eat their own meal. As soon as they finished eating Bull gave Miralys a look that let her know she was about to get a lecture.

"As for you, what the hell were you thinking, just standing there like that? He would have cut you in two!" Bull asked.

"I was thinking I was going to have to fight him!" Miralys answered.

"You were going to get yourself killed," Bull said.

"But I didn't, did I?" Miralys retorted.

"No thanks to anything you did. If Harding hadn't killed him with that arrow…"

"I would have ducked out of the way of the axe and then hit him in the back. I wasn't expecting the marbari, though - thank you for dealing with them," Miralys said.

"We were lucky. We won't always be," Cassandra said.

"I know. That's why I'm training. But I'll thank the Maker for the luck," Miralys said.

"Give her a break, Seeker. I'd rather be lucky than good any day of the week," Varric said, which made Cassandra huff out her breath in disgust.

"Of course _you_ would," she muttered. "Herald, unless we have further business here we should return to Haven so we can continue your training."

"Yes, Seeker," Miralys said. Cassandra made a small noise, something between a grunt and a huff, and stalked off towards her tent.

"Well, I think you did good, Kid," Varric said.

"Thanks, Varric, but she's right. I do need more training,"

"Not gonna lie to you, Kid, she's right. But you aren't dead yet."

"That's something, at least," Miralys agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the views, faves, follows, and reviews. I am so thrilled every time I see a notification. I apologize for the delay - I've been slammed by The Cold That Would Not Die. I'm finally mostly over it, though.
> 
> Mega thanks to JayRain and Winterborne for listening to me while I talk things out to make sure I make sense. It's very much appreciated!


	12. Chapter 12 - The Best Laid Plans

_From the Personal Journal of Cullen Rutherford_

_9:34 - Kirkwall_

_Divine Beatrix is dead. Some would say that she effectively died long ago, given that she was rarely lucid. The new Divine, Justinia, is said to be young, for a Divine, and fully in possession of her faculties. I am sure many will not be pleased by this. Meredith continues to be the acting leader of Kirkwall, and I continue to be uneasy about it. It seems that Meredith has no intention of choosing a new viscount anytime soon. I've heard her say that she would be glad to hand over power to someone who could do a better job, but her tone made it clear she think there is no such person. I am effectively running the Gallows now, except I do not make decisions, I only carry them out. I have spoken with the Grand Cleric, but she seems to be of the impression that it is not her place to interfere with politics or "templar matters". I find myself wondering what her place actually is, then. The Chantry is already involved. Perhaps Justinia will visit and see for herself, but I doubt it._

* * *

 

9:41 - Haven

_CR,_

_Have recruited Chargers. Good group. Have also recruited Blades of Hessarian. Ask L to see report I sent her. Will explain further upon return._

_CP_

Cullen frowned at the slip of paper he held. He knew they were limited in what they could ask the ravens to carry, but this was ridiculous. He'd rather have had no report at all than this cryptic nonsense that created more questions than it answered. He went to find Leliana in her tent. He found it amusing that she worked outside while her rookery was inside. But the birds were the backbone of her network - without them it would take much more time to get information. It made sense to ensure their comfort. It was still amusing, though.

"Commander, what can I do for you?" she asked when he scratched at the opening of her tent. She was frowning, but that wasn't an uncommon expression for her, these days.

Cullen held up the "report" that Cassandra had sent. "Cassandra says to ask you to see the report she sent you."

"Ah, yes, of course. I thought you would be by as soon as you read that. Here you are," Leliana said as she handed Cullen a slip of paper no larger than the one he already had.

_L,_

_Harding killed leader of Blades of Hessarian. Talk to her about her desire for revenge coming before needs of Inquisition. All turned out well, so no disciplinary action needed. Just talk to her._

_CP_

"Maker's Breath, is a little detail too much to ask? I know your birds can carry more than this," Cullen groused.

"Not to mention she can write on both sides of the paper. However, I do have a longer report from Harding, herself," Leliana said.

"Thank the Maker. What happened?"

"Apparently the Herald challenged the leader of the Blades of Hessarian to single combat," Leliana said.

Cullen grabbed the back of his neck, the only part of his old habit of running his hands through his hair that he allowed himself these days. "You must be joking."

"I am entirely serious, Commander. Although, to be far, the Herald thought what she had was a truce token. She'd only been planning on talking."

"That's...not much better," Cullen said.

"There was a backup plan. I'll want to talk more with all of them when they return, but it sounds not as bad as Cassandra makes it out to be. Harding shot the leader from up on a ridge. She says it was partly done in revenge for killing her scouts, but the Herald could have been in real trouble if she hadn't done it."

"Right. She is improving, but she is no fighter. Harding is right. She would not have been able to defeat him if he had any skill. Thank you, it's good to know what is going on," Cullen said.

"You're most welcome, Commander. I believe the Blades would be of most use to your forces. You can use them to help keep peace around the Storm Coast area. They can work with my scouts as well, of course, but you'll want to station someone at their outpost. Probably someone with...flexible ideas about the Chantry. The Blades have some strange beliefs."

"Indeed. I think I know just the men. I'll deal with it," Cullen said. He spent a few minutes discussing various items with the spymaster, then took his leave. They'd agreed to make a point of comparing notes when reports came in. Leliana saw them all, of course, but it would be better if they all made a point of sharing all information they received. It would make the morning meetings longer, but it would be worth it. Leliana said she would talk to Lady Josephine about the reports from the Storm Coast, so that left Cullen free to speak with Knight-Captain Rylen about the plans to gather information from the templars.

He found Rylen where he expected him - drilling troops. When he saw Cullen he nodded in greeting and sent the men off on a run around the perimeter.

"What can I do for you, Knight-Commander?" he asked.

"Rylen, you know I never actually have had that title, and it certainly isn't my title now," Cullen said.

"Should've been. Bastards should've made it official," Rylen said, punctuating his words by spitting into the dirt, thankfully away from Cullen's boots.

"Be that as it may, I didn't come here to talk about that. What do you know of Therinfal Redoubt?"

"Old Seeker fortress, isn't it?" Rylen asked.

"Yes,and it would seem that's where the Lord Seeker has taken the Templars."

Rylen gave a noncommittal grunt and waited for Cullen to continue.

"We need to know what is going on. The Lord Seeker is acting out of character, according to Cassandra, and there has been no answer to Lady Josephine's request for communication. I'd prefer to have the Templars as allies….but it will never happen if we can't talk to them."

"Better them than the mages, that's for sure. What do you need from me?"

"I'd like to send some a small group of templars to Therinfal to...get the lay of the land."

"Spy, you mean," Rylen said, "Commander, I'm no spy."

"No, but you're effectively the leader of the templars in the inquisition - don't give me that look, they all look to you and you know it - and you'll know who would be good for this."

"Hmm, perhaps. Let me think on it and talk to some of them. I'll come see you no later than this time tomorrow."

* * *

 

Rylen was good as his word, intercepting Cullen as he left the morning advisors' meeting.

"I've got two who I think would suit," he said, without preamble. "Hutchins - he's one of the ones from Kinloch. Young man, not even twenty. I doubt the Lord Seeker has ever met him," Rylen said.

"That's all to the good. Why him?" Cullen asked.

"He's big as an ox. Everyone assumes he's stupid as one. He's not, but he just has to put on his farm boy simpleton expression and people start saying all kinds of things around him," Rylen said.

"That could certainly be useful. Who else?"

"Young man named Fournier. He was here with the Jader garrison. Only one left, poor sod. He was in Haven tending the horses when the temple blew. He's some noble's bastard. He knows how to keep his mouth shut."

"They both sound like good men," Cullen said.

"They are, and they want to help. It's not right. Our job is to protect the mages from the people and the people from the mages, not all this political rubbish," Rylen said.

"I agree. My hope is having you do this get some information to use to help the Lord Seeker see reason. The men are both young, though, so we'll need someone to lead," Cullen said.

Rylen sighed. "Aye. That'll be me, I think," Rylen said.

"You? You said you were no spy."

"Aye, I'm not, but I can't send those two out there on their own, now can I? We'll slip in, say we went to the rebels after the Conclave, but we've seen the error of our ways, blah blah. The Lord Seeker wants all the templars he can get," Rylen said.

"All right, then. Bring the two of them to the War Room, and we'll plan it out," Cullen said. He'd been hoping Rylen would decide to go, although he wasn't going to order him. The man was as level headed as they came. If anyone could find out what was going on and report back safely, it was Rylen. He'd ask Leliana to come to the planning session as well. She was certain to think of things that he had not.

"Yes, Ser," Rylen answered.

* * *

 

"Rylen and his men left this morning," Cullen reported to the rest of the command group a few days later. The Herald, and her new recruits, had returned to Haven the evening before. Cullen had briefly met the Qunari leader of the Chargers when the man came to debrief him about the events at the Storm Coast, but he had yet to meet the rest. It was on the list.

"And there is nothing to tie the templars to the Inquisition?" Leliana asked. Cullen gave her a dirty look.

"Peace, Commander. I am sure your people are capable, but it pays to be cautious. One of mine was caught because they had their Inquisition gear on them," Leliana said with a shake of her head.

"Fair enough. I'll report as soon as I know something. I don't know when that will be, though, as they obviously can't use birds."

"Rylen is more than capable. I have every confidence that he will succeed," Cassandra said, "Now, let us discuss our plan to meet with the mages," she continued.

"We are getting reports of odd happenings around Redcliffe," Leliana said.

"Like what?" Lady Miralys asked.

"More rifts, for one. And the demons around them are moving faster or slower than my people think they should," Leliana replied.

"Demons are not known for consistency," Cullen observed.

"True, but these are experienced scouts. They have seen demons before. If they say they're acting odd, then they are," Leliana said.

"Peace, Nightingale," Cullen said with a small smile, which made Leliana answer with one of her own. "I'm not saying we shouldn't listen to the reports, just that we should consider all possibilities," Cullen continued, to which the spymaster inclined her head in acknowledgement of the point.

"I would like to accompany you to Redcliffe," Leliana said, addressing herself to Lady Miralys.

"I think I can handle talking to a few mages," the Herald answered.

"I'm sure you can, but you are not familiar with the town. I am. I spent some time there during the Blight, and I have been there since. I may see things that you will not," Leliana answered.

"In that case, I should accompany you as well. I spent some time there during the Blight, myself," Cullen said, which made Leliana look at him in surprise.

"I did not know that," she said.

"I was injured at Kinloch Hold - the Ferelden Circle - as you know. They sent me to the Redcliffe Chantry to recover. I ended up staying for some time. The town needed a great deal of assistance," Cullen said.

"Ah, yes, that makes sense," Leliana replied.

"You were at the Ferelden Circle during the Blight? Lady Miralys asked.

"Yes. It was my first posting," Cullen responded, in a tone he hoped would quell any further inquiry. He saw Lady Miralys open her mouth to ask something else, then close it abruptly. Leliana had likely given her some sort of signal. Whatever the reason, he was just glad he did not have to speak further on the matter.

"Well, your knowledge will be helpful, both of you. Commander, you may want to leave your Templar insignia here," Cassandra said.

"Yes, probably best not to enter the stronghold of the rebel mages while advertising that I was a templar," Cullen agreed.

They finalized their plans to go to Redcliffe and then adjourned the meeting. Cullen stopped Lady Miralys on her way out.

"A moment, Lady Miralys?" he asked, which made her sigh.

"What did I do now?" she asked, which made Cullen's lip quirk up in a small smile. He'd noticed that about her. She tended to assume the worst. It was something they had in common.

"What makes you think you've done anything?"

"Just playing the odds, Commander. What can I do for you?" she asked.

"I'd like to talk about your encounter with the Blades," he said, which made her sigh again.

"Hasn't Cassandra told you all about it?"

"She has. I want to hear it from you," he answered.

"Fine. But I need a drink before I talk about that. It wasn't my finest hour," she said.

"Well, you know that. That's a start," Cullen observed. Actually she hadn't done that badly, now that he'd heard from all parties involved. Iron Bull, in particular, had given him a lot of detail. He wasn't going to tell Lady Miralys that just yet, though. He wanted to know what she thought of how she did, first.

"Definitely need a drink," Lady Miralys answered.

"I can listen in the tavern as well as anywhere else," Cullen said, which made Lady Miralys raise her eyebrows.

"You, in a tavern? This I have to see. The lecture will be worth it," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forward plot movement! And a bit of canon divergence. Seemed logical to me that they'd want to get some info about Therinfal, and this seemed a good way to get it. Plus this will fix something that I see as a logical discontinuity. It will hopefully all make sense in time. Also, Rylen is awesome and needs more stuff to do. Don't worry, I'm not going to make you sit through a retelling of both quests. I love you all too much to do that to you.
> 
> Thanks so much for the kudos, comments, and subscriptions! I know I say this every chapter, but it's true every chapter - I am so thrilled every time I see a notification.


	13. Chapter 13 - Bad Ale and Good Coversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen discusses the Blades of Hessarian and other matters with the Herald over a tankard of ale.

_From the personal Journal of Cullen Rutherford_

_Kirkwall - 9:34_

_Anders thumbed his nose at me today. He's moved in with Hawke, which I know because he took great pains to work that into the conversation when Hawke came to the Gallows today. The man almost strutted. I imagine he thinks I'm frothing at the mouth to clap him in irons and drag him off to the Circle, and I can't because he's the Champion of Kirkwall's lover._

_He's partly right. Meredith will not order me to do so because he has Hawke's protection...but even if she did, I would tell her that he is a Grey Warden and thus their problem. I might contact the Warden Commander in Starkhaven and tell him to come get his wayward Warden, but that's as much as I'd do. In truth, I hope she never gives the order. Anders' clinic does a lot of good in Darktown. I would hate to see it go. I would vastly prefer it if there was even one templar there to keep an eye on things, though. And while I'm wishing, I'd like a pony._

* * *

Haven - 9:41

"They don't really roll cheese wheels in Ostwick, do they?" Cullen asked Lady Miralys as they walked to Haven's small tavern. Josephine's report included mention that the Hinterlands was producing a decent amount of food again, now that they'd pacified the region a bit, so there would be a greater variety of food rolling into Haven soon, including eggs and cheese. The Hinterlands normally produced a great deal of food for Ferelden, so Cullen hoped that they'd be able to bring the entire region under the Inquisition's banner. Lady Miralys had quipped that they could start having 'genuine Ostwicker cheese rolling tournaments'. He'd heard of the tournament, but he had assumed that was a tall tale told to people new to the Marches, so he had to ask.

"They really do. Mother never let me or my sister participate - too unladylike -but Gareth certainly did. Maxwell too, until he went to the Circle," she said. "We used to bet on the outcome, though. People greased up the wheels to make the cheese roll faster - did all kinds of things to sabotage each other, too. It's almost a blood sport," she said. Cullen started to laugh, but from the look on her face he wasn't entirely sure she was joking.

You take your cheese seriously in Ostwick, then," Cullen finally said.

"Oh yes, it's serious business. There were always fights. And sometimes the winner would cry like a baby when his cheese wheel was cut into and consumed during the festival that would follow the competition."

"Now, that I do not understand. Cheese is meant to be eaten."

"True, but when you've spent time perfecting your technique...well, apparently the cheese ceases to be food and starts to become a friend," Lady Miralys said

"If you say so," Cullen answered with a smile and a shake of his head. They'd reached the tavern by that point, so he opened the door for Lady Miralys and ushered her inside.

* * *

"What is this?" Miralys asked as Cullen sat a tankard in front of her.

"Ale," Cullen responded.

"Oh, thank you, Commander Obvious, that helps so much," Miralys retorted, which made Cullen smile.

"Fereldan ale," Cullen said.

Miralys looked at her tankard dubiously. "I've heard that Fereldan ale is made from dog piss," she said. Cullen stifled a groan. He'd heard that comment so many times in Kirkwall.

"Nonsense. There aren't any dogs in camp," Cullen said, taking a drink and wincing, "although this is closer to it than some I've had," he admitted.

Miralys looked at Cullen with her eyebrows raised. "Did you just make a joke?"

"Of course not. I have no sense of humor. Ask anyone," he responded. It was a pathetic attempt at a joke, although he was pleased that she recognized that he'd made the effort. Most people did not.

"Now that, I believe. That people say that, I mean," Miralys said.

"So...Blades of Hessarian," Cullen prompted. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his reputation for grimness.

"Right, back to the serious business," Miralys said with a sigh. "I should have asked at the gate what the token meant. I assumed it was a parley sign, or maybe their insignia, or something. Stupid," Miralys said, taking a drink from her tankard and shaking her head.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Yes, you should have asked, but Cassandra and Bull could have asked, too," Cullen said, taking another drink of the awful ale. The second drink was not as bad - perhaps the ale had numbed his tongue. He hated to admit it, but Marcher ale was better….better than this swill, at least. He'd have to ask Josephine about getting some better ale in from the bannorn. Surely some of the breweries were operating now that there was a significant Inquisition presence in the Hinterlands, or they might be willing to start again, if they had some protection. He added that thought to his mental list and turned his attention back to Lady Miralys.

"And then once I figured out what was going on...I should have tried harder to talk to him. Found out if there was a reason….I don't know," Miralys said, making a face.

"From what I've been told, their former leader was little more than a highwayman. I think you did everyone a service by killing him," Cullen said. Miralys looked up at him in surprise.

"It was Harding who actually killed him," she protested.

"Be that as it may, ultimately you are responsible. You were leading, after all," Cullen said.

"I suppose. I still say it was Harding's success, though."

"That's to he good, actually. Victories should be shared," Cullen said.

"Failures, not so much?" Miralys ventured.

"Blame, not so much," Cullen clarified, "If you share the victories and give praise where it is due, then your men will be more willing to own up to their mistakes when they make theml. But when you point the finger of blame…"

"Ah, yes, that makes sense. First instinct is to deny an accusation. Well, in the spirit of owning up to one's mistakes, I should have named a champion when we went up against the Blades," Miralys said.

"Perhaps. I'm not sure they would have accepted anyone other than 'The Herald of Andraste', Cullen said with obvious emphasis, which made Miralys take a big drink of ale.

"You have no idea how much I hate that name," she said after she put down her tankard.

"Oh, I think I do, if the look on your face is any indication. That could be the ale, though. I'm starting to wonder if this actually is dog piss."

"It is awful, isn't it? Although I do have to say, the country doesn't smell like wet dog, like I'd been led to believe."

"I heard that all the time in Kirkwall, at least until my accent faded," Cullen said.

"Wait, you're Fereldan? I thought you were from Kirkwall," Miralys said.

"No, I'm Fereldan, born and bred. I'm from Honnleath. Little fishing village in the foothills of the Frostbacks - only about a half day from here, actually."

"Have you been to see your family, then?"

"They aren't there anymore. Honnleath was hit hard by the Blight. They evacuated and ended up in South Reach. It's not far from Denerim."

"Ah. They all survived, I hope?" Miralys responded.

"Yes, they are all well, although I haven't seen them since I joined the Templars. It's been...more than twenty years. I get letters, though."

"You've been a Templar for twenty years? You don't seem that old."

"Was a templar. I left the Order when I joined the Inquisition. But no, I have't been a full templar that long. I was thirteen when I joined as a recruit. I was eighteen when I took my vows and became a full templar," Cullen said. Maker, had it been so long? It seemed like yesterday, sometimes, although sometimes it seemed like more than an Age had passed.

"What's it like, being a templar?" Lady Miralys asked.

"Isn't your sister a templar?" he responded, which made her look a bit embarrassed.

"Yes...but...we aren't close. We haven't done more than say hello at family gatherings since she joined the Order," Miralys responded.

"Ah...well, I'd hardly call my experiences typical. I was in Kirkwall when the Chantry exploded, and at the Ferelden Circle when it fell, as you know. I don't have a lot of good memories of being a templar," Cullen found himself saying. Maker, where did that come from? He never talked about this.

"Surely it wasn't all bad? My sister seems happy enough, although I suppose I haven't talked to her enough to be sure…."

"No, it wasn't all bad. The camaraderie was good. I had friends. Still do. I was very glad when Knight Captain Rylen accepted my offer to join the Inquisition as a lieutenant. He was invaluable in Kirkwall."

"But?" Miralys prompted.

"I...the Chantry has not done right by mages...or templars. I still think mages need oversight and protection. But there has to be a way to do it that doesn't involve caging them. Perhaps...I don't know, a mixed military service, or a healing clinic with Templar support," Cullen said, warming to the topic. "There was a mage...the mage who blew up the Chantry, actually. He had a healing clinic in Darktown...that's the worst part of Kirkwall...he did a lot of good there. It's one of the reasons I let him be. I knew he was down there. But...he wasn't hurting anyone, or so I thought. Sometimes I wonder...well, it doesn't matter what I wonder. I'm sorry, you did not come here to drink bad Fereldan ale and listen to me lecture you."

"Actually, I did, if you'll remember," Miralys said, which made Cullen flush, "I don't feel particularly lectured, though. I've enjoyed this," she said, which made him flush even harder. He was trying to figure out what to say to that when she continued.

"You really don't think I cocked that whole situation up?" she asked.

"I really don't. You walked away from it uninjured, and we have more allies than we did. You need more training…"

"Ah, I knew there was a catch."

"There always is," Cullen agreed.

"Well, I already knew I needed more training, so even that isn't so bad. This idea of yours for a mixed military service. We should do that," Miralys said.

"You think it's a good idea?" Cullen asked.

"I do. We already have mages and templars here. And you're the commander of the army...I think you probably have the authority to make it happen if you want to," she said with a smile.

Cullen answered her smile with one of his own. "I suppose I do," he responded.

"You'll want to choose mostly younger ones, maybe with a few of the...more moderate veterans, at least at first," Miralys said.

"I had thought of the older mages and templars. They'd be steadier. Why do you think the younger ones would be better?" Cullen asked. He lifted his tankard and drained it, but made no move to order another. It really was terrible ale. He'd speak to Lady Josephine about securing a better supply.

"Well, we have more of the younger ones, for one thing. Too many of the older ones are died at the Conclave. But...the younger mages and templars haven't had as long to be set in their ways," Miralys said.

"Ah, I see. They'd be more adaptable," Cullen said. She had a good point.

"Exactly. You can't have all young people, though, because 'young' and 'stupid' seem to go so well together," Lady Miralys said, which made Cullen smile at her. He'd smiled a lot during this meeting, actually. She had that effect on people, though. She could even make the elven mage smile, and he was so dour that Varric called him 'Chuckles'.

"Not always. You're young, and I'd hardly call you stupid," Cullen said, which made Miralys flush.

"Well, thank you, Commander, but I am not all that young. And I had my moments when I was," Miralys said.

"As did I. I take your point. I'd like Knight Captain Rylen's advice on the group, though, so it will have to wait until he returns," Cullen said.

"I've not met him, but from what you've said, he seems a good man."

"The best. Now, if you've finished that abominable ale, I have another task for you,"

"Am I going to like this?" she asked, warily.

"Perhaps. We're going to see Harritt. He has new armor for you."

"Ooooo, new armor, it will be like shopping!" Miralys said, an eager grin lighting her features. She jumped up and rushed out of the tavern without once looking back. Cullen paid for their drinks and followed, albeit at a more sedate pace. He probably didn't  _need_  to be there when her gear was fitted, but he did want to make sure that all was well with the armor he'd ordered made for her. It was a She was their only hope of closing the Breach, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was edited in the sky over the Western US, as I was on a fight to Las Vegas at the time. I'm currently at a Con in Vegas and am a bit keyed up to sleep. Things will be busy for the rest of the week so I am posting this chapter now. I will be here until Tuesday, so probably won't get anything else posted for a while. 
> 
> Thank you all for the views and comments! It means so much to me.


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